“Don’t worry, Mike, I plan to give them a very warm reception. Just find those youngsters, and if you can’t, find me the bastards responsible for their abduction. I’ll see you when we’ve sorted out the visitors.”
FOR HARRY, HELL HAD BECOME REALITY. The drugs coursing through his veins left him unable to resist as his tormentors ordered him to perform tasks relentlessly without a break. He was fully aware of his surroundings but unable to take control of himself or to refuse to do whatever he was told. He lost all sense of time as the tests continued.
“He’s resisting again.”
“Apply another dose. His system is extremely resilient, but the fatigue levels are taking their toll. He’ll soon develop muscle cramps and spasms if these readings are any indication. Amazing he’s held up this long.”
“At the end of this cycle, take some more tissue and fluid samples then rest him. He’s expendable, but we need to keep him going a little longer.” The speaker laughed. “Live tissue is always better to work with than frozen.”
“We still have the other two to use, though the genes in the youngest aren’t as good as this one or the red head.”
The torment continued until, even with the drugs, the spasms and cramps in his muscles made further testing impractical.
“SEVENTY-EIGHT HOURS WITHOUT SLEEP OR REST—our best result yet, a combination of his youth and his natural resilience, probably. Take him out of the exoskeleton and put him in a cell to recover, but use restraints. We don’t want him to damage himself, and the wounds where we took samples need time to heal. According to the latest samples, the gene splice has taken. His recovery should be accelerated.”
When Harry was removed from the test laboratory, the man in charge took off his mask. “Get this place set up to take the first round of material from the red head. Dose him with the control formula. We don’t want any resistance from him.” He waved toward Harry, who was being wheeled away. “We’ll let the drugs work themselves out of that one over the next twelve hours, then start on phase two.” He smiled mirthlessly, adding, “I am told that people in his time underwent operations without any anaesthetics. We’ll have an opportunity to see what his system does with systemic shock when we start the vivisections. That will also tell us whether the RNA splice is able to repair human tissue.”
Muscle spasms, cramps and the control drugs made sleep almost impossible as Harry lay exhausted in the cell, his body twitching and pulling against the restraints. Through the haze filling his mind, he hallucinated, first seeing his father and then Surgeon Commander Myers. The latter made several movements as if administering some medication, and this he found comforting. When they left, a strange sense of peace filled his head, the spasms stopped soon after, and he slept.
FERGHAL FARED MUCH BETTER THAN HARRY DID throughout the ordeal, partly because of his heavier build, but primarily because he was not subjected to the endurance trial. When he was returned to his cell, fully consciousness and in control of his senses, he fretted about Harry, having overheard the discussion about the next phase of torment planned for his friend.
“Oi has t’ find a way t’ beat these Spailpins, Danny. We have to get out an’ teach ’em their manners, but first we have to find Harry. To the devil wi’ the lot o’ ’em.” A vague memory of his father standing watching the scientists at work on him in the lab lingered, but it made no sense.
“’Ow do we do that, Fergie? This place be tighter’n a drum. An’ where’s Mr Trelawney an’ t’ others then?”
“They’re here as well, alongside o’ us if I guess right.” He eyed the square ventilation grid in the ceiling. “Here, I’ll lift ye up—see how that grill is secured an’ what’s beyond it.” He hoisted the boy to his shoulders, wincing in pain.
Testing the grill, Danny reported, “It be loose, Fergie. I reckons I kin fit through it, an’ mebbe in t’ duct. Want I should try?”
Ferghal hesitated. Reaching a decision, he grinned. “Aye, but take off them shoes for a start. Up you go, and no noise if ye can help it.”
When Danny’s feet had vanished into the opening, Ferghal sat down to check his wounds, keeping his eyes and ears alert to Danny’s progress and the possibility of intruders.
HARRY WOKE FROM A NIGHTMARE, but the voice whispering in his ears remained. Unable to move due to the restraints, he listened carefully then realisation dawned. He could hear the operating system of the AI in this terrible place.
He focussed his mind and soon found himself exploring the computer’s systems, finding all manner of data files. He took a few minutes to absorb what his torturers had done to him. Anger flared as he left those memories and ventured further into the system, looking for the fate of his friends.
After several minutes, he found that he could see and hear Ferghal, so he attempted to send an image—and was almost betrayed into dropping his pose of unconsciousness when Ferghal responded.
“Ferghal, can you hear the machine as well? Don’t speak. Just think the words you want to say to me, and I’ll hear them in my head.”
“Where are you, Master Harry? What can we do?”
“I am restrained, and they plan to do more experiments on me. I think you and I are close to each other, but I am not sure. If you can, try to win free, and I will instruct this computer to unlock the cells if I can find the way of it.”
“We are both in cells deep below their laboratories, Master Harry. Seek something labelled Level 12 Holding Cells. That was the sign at the entrance.”
“Good observation, Ferghal. I knew I could count on you,” said Harry. “Where is Danny?”
“He’s with me,” said Ferghal. “He may be small enough for something I think may work.”
“Good. Now let me find the means of control for these doors.”
LEAVING FERGHAL TO COMMUNICATE HIS IDEA to Danny, Harry accidentally found the formulae for the drugs this fiendish place was creating. It gave him a sense of tremendous satisfaction to instruct the computer to send the formulae to the food and refreshment replicators for the staff and guards.
“Add Formulae 3302, 3304B and 7641 randomly to all food and drink requests on Levels 1 to 8 and all other staff accommodation levels.” Satisfied that these were now sufficiently contaminated, he instructed the system to erase the formulae and transfer it to a concealed file. Then he said, “Computer, show monitors for the holding area on level twelve.”
His eyes now saw the individual cells, and he registered that Ferghal was in an adjoining cell, and the sub-lieutenant in the next, with the other two midshipmen in the next. There were some strange-looking creatures in the next two. Switching his attention back to his own cell, he studied his image then had a new idea. “Computer, replay the view from ten minutes ago on a continuous loop.” He had a second idea. “Lock the monitoring station so that no one can access it but me.”
He found Ferghal again. “The monitoring system is now showing a replay of the last ten minutes. I will try to prevent anyone from investigating.”
“Danny can use t’ duct to reach the corridor, but he’ll need help unlocking the doors,” Ferghal reminded him.
“I’ll do my best,” Harry replied in his thoughts, following a stream of code that looked promising. Think-speaking a few commands, he found what he was looking for by trial and error, worrying the entire time that the guards would be alerted of his intrusion into the system. When nothing happened, he deactivated the locks and passed this to Ferghal.
“I’ll try to find a signal sender. Perhaps I may contact our ships.”
Just as he found what he needed, parts of the AI failed, and a painful sensation gripped him. He realised the entire AI seemed to be unravelling and going mad.
A quick recall of the closed circuit monitoring showed that there was fighting in several areas, and the AI was already one of the casualties. He tried to contact Ferghal but could not. A noise above him brought him back to reality, and he looked up to see the worried face of Danny peeri
ng down at him through the ventilation grill.
He grinned upward. “Danny, by all that’s wonderful!—get into the corridor if you can. I’ve opened the locks, so it wants only your operating the latch.”
“Aye, Mr Her’n, sir. I’ll fetch Fergie for yer.” The boy vanished backward down the duct followed by scrabbling and the sound of metal being pushed aside.
Harry explored the computer again, but many parts were registering as non-functional or inaccessible. The door burst open, and Ferghal rushed in ahead of Paddy Murphy and Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney.
Chapter 26
Not Your Lab Rat
FERGHAL’S FACE REGISTERED HIS HORROR at Harry’s condition, and his expression changed to one of stone cold fury as he strode toward his friend.
“What have they done to ye, Harry? I’ll kill them—every last one o’ them,” he snarled.
As Paddy and Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney worked with Ferghal to release Harry’s restraints, no one said anything, and Harry did his best to maintain his dignity even though he was still in a bad way. His legs hurt with exhaustion, and he wanted more than anything to burst into tears.
As the last restraint was flung aside by Ferghal, the sub-lieutenant broke the silence. “Ferghal, Paddy, find him somewhere safe to sit down. I don’t know what’s happening here, but whatever it is, it’s going to get a lot worse when I find some weapons.”
Ferghal’s face was a mask of fury. “No, sir! When I finds the scum that did this to him, they’re mine, sir—mine!”
Ferghal left the cell before anyone could stop him, and a few moments later, there was a shout from the other end of the corridor followed by a burst of weapon fire then silence. Trelawney ran to the open door that Ferghal had short-circuited. The visible evidence suggested he had used a rather unorthodox method to achieve his goal.
A weapons burst had partly melted the doorframe, which Trelawney noted briefly before he dived through the opening expecting to be shot. Instead, he found Ferghal standing over a man whose neck was clearly broken.
Taking stock of the situation, Trelawney returned to Harry and Paddy, his mind thinking quickly. They needed to get out of the cellblock and get clear of the entire facility. He could hear Ferghal doing something, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He only hoped they would not regret it.
Reading the indecision on the sub-lieutenant’s face, Harry said, in a voice hoarse with fatigue, “Sir, I think most of the people in this place may have been affected by the drugs that I instructed the AI to divert to their food and refreshment supply. Their computer system malfunctioned moments after I did that, and it no longer responds when I access it.”
“Harry, I don’t understand how you did that, and I don’t think I want to.” Trelawney nodded toward two of the midshipmen. “Let’s move out, men. Hans, Paddy, see what Ferghal is doing. Confiscate any serviceable weapons.”
To Harry, he said, “I think Ferghal has gone fighting mad, Harry—I pity anyone who gets in his way. Now, I want you to walk with Danny. I’ll bring up the rear. Has anyone checked the other cells?” Seeing head shakes and looks of alarm, Trelawney said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”
The first two cells proved to be empty, but the third revealed a prisoner like no other that Trelawney had ever seen. The figure was man shaped and bipedal, but that was where the resemblance ended to a human being. The head was clearly reptilian, and the skin, though damaged and showing signs of abuse, was covered in small iridescent scales. The hands and feet were equipped with talons at their extremities, and the creature hissed a warning and adopted a defensive posture as Trelawney opened the door.
“Easy, easy,” he said as he held up both hands in the universal gesture of surrender and peace. “I mean you no harm. We are escaping this place, and we can set you free too.”
The creature eyed him suspiciously, evidently uncertain, so Trelawney backed away and said to his men, “Move slowly and don’t make any threatening gestures. Let him see you mean him no harm.” He moved to the next cell where another of the creatures was confined, this one clearly injured, one arm a mutilated mess.
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed. “Now we have an injured alien as well.”
He was thrust aside as the first creature leapt past him making guttural hissing and growling sounds to which the injured creature responded.
“Okay, I guess we leave now and these guys can come or stay—their choice. Ferghal may not be the only person around here with a determination to do a lot of damage to anyone who gets in the way.” Turning to the aliens, Trelawney said, “I don’t know if you can understand me, but this officer has accessed the computer for this place and caused the food replicators to be contaminated. We must escape. You can come with us or stay—it’s up to you.”
He turned to back out, but the injured alien made a gesture to stop him, hissing something to its companion, and he realised that the creature was staring past him to Harry, who stood just beyond the door. Trelawney indicated Harry and said, “This officer has been tortured. I must get him to the surface and away from here.” Then he turned and ushered Harry and Danny out of the corridor.
On reaching the guardroom, the sub-lieutenant saw an emergency medical kit and had a sudden thought.
“Wait here. I think our friends next door may have a use for this.” He grabbed the kit and darted back to the cell where the two creatures remained locked in a fierce debate. He placed the med kit on the floor and said carefully, miming as he did so, “You may find the things you need in this to help your friend.”
The saurian reached out and drew the kit closer then made a gesture that could have been thanks or a dismissal. The second creature made the same gesture, albeit restricted somewhat by the damage to its arm, but its expression seemed grateful.
The sub-lieutenant backed away. “Right, Ferghal and Paddy, take the lead. You have the guard’s holstered weapon, a personal plasma projector, right Paddy? Ferghal?” He looked at Ferghal’s stony expression then at the shiny metal blade and its heavy handle that Ferghal held up. Somehow, the youth had found a replicator and created a sword. It looked lethal.
After some minutes of cautious exploration of the corridors adjoining the guardroom, they found the laboratories. In one, they surprised three technicians.
“You scum!” Ferghal hurled himself at the surprised trio, his blade slashing at the nearest ripping through the man’s clothing and opening a long cut across his chest. “Stand fast or I’ll gut the lot o’ ye, jus’ as yer tried ter do to us!”
“O’Connor, stand fast! They’re unarmed,” the sub-lieutenant barked, as amazed as the intended victims when his order was obeyed. “Paddy, Hans, secure the prisoners. Hans, you better deal with that wound.” He watched as the wounded man was bandaged then turned to the third. “Now, my friend, you have a choice. This lad is from a time when no quarter meant no rules of engagement applied. You can tell me the way out and the numbers of people here and where you have the rest of your specimens locked up, or I’ll walk away and let Ferghal here finish what he has started on your friend there—but he’ll dole out his special brand of justice on all three of you.”
The man shot a glance at Ferghal then tried to bluff. “You won’t get away with this! The guards will be here any minute now. These labs are under constant surveillance, and they will already be alert to your escape.”
“Funny you should say that,” Trelawney replied smoothly. Without taking his eyes off the man, he said over his shoulder, “Harry, can you still read the computer?”
“Yes sir,” Harry replied. “It’s easy from here—this terminal runs on a loop system.”
“Good, then show this gentleman what you can do to their system,” Trelawney said, emphasising the word gentleman in a way that was not a compliment to the man.
After linking himself to the computer, Harry found the data storage of the laboratory activities. He picked a record at random. “I am putting one of their experiments on view, sir.”
Across the room, a screen showed a man strapped to an examination table. He was fully conscious but apparently paralysed. He lay perfectly still as the assembled team busied themselves removing a section of one of his internal organs, but the expression on the victim’s face told the watchers exactly how much pain he felt as the procedure was done. A whimper of fear brought Sub-Lieutenant Trelawney’s attention back to the prisoners.
His face pale at what he had just seen, he ordered, “Kill that video, Harry. Fleet will want to retrieve all of those records. A court will want to see them sooner than these bastards would like.” Pausing as he fought to control his revulsion and fury, he said to the technician, “For the life of me I can’t think of a single reason why I shouldn’t let TechRate O’Connor do the same thing to you that you’ve done to countless others, I’m sure. You bastards aren’t even worth scraping off my boot. The only thing restraining me is that I will not sink to your level, and I won’t allow any of these fellows to either. Now, tell me what I want to know, or a pair of reptilian creatures back there will be along shortly who will probably do to you what I won’t.” He glared at the man with a look of such loathing that the man cowered back.
Trelawney continued. “Now, you bastard, start from the top—what is happening here? Who is in charge, where are they, and how many of you pieces of filth are there?”
The words tumbled out of the technician, his companions nodding in confirmation as he spilled names, exits and guard positions. The group learned that this was a secret facility set up by the Johnstone Research Foundation to study interspecies breeding and mind control, and to engage in the commercial cloning of bodies for sale as spare body parts.
The full staff ran to about sixty workers and twenty guards.
“But, about half an hour ago,” the man spluttered, “something happened. The guards on their lunch break came out and attacked everyone they met.” He swallowed hard. “Then the fighting started. Some of our colleagues smashed up the labs. They’ve destroyed months of work.”
Harry Heron: Into the Unknown Page 26
