by Nick Thacker
Jocelyn nodded as her hand was freed from its prison, and she turned and walked into the building, noticing that Mrs. Halpern had waited for two of her bodyguards to enter before her.
Jocelyn came to the makeshift desk, found a folding chair stacked against the wall, and offered it to the woman.
"Thank you. Now, let us get straight to business. Your discovery of heavy metal poisoning at the Panna facility here was a remarkable act of deduction and scientific research."
"How did you know --"
The woman -- Halpern -- held up a hand and Jocelyn was surprised at her mouth's immediate compliance.
"My point, Dr. Wu, is that we have been in need of someone of your... skill set ... on our team. I have prepared a rather generous offer for you, but I understand your motivations are more of the altruistic, rather than compensatory, flair."
Jocelyn frowned. The woman was insulting her, that was completely obvious. But it was being done in a way that was as precise as it was inflammatory.
What was her play?
Jocelyn had never been a "political" type, but she was intelligent enough to be able to wade through the bureaucracy of workplace politics enough to get the job done. But this woman seemed to emanate an air of confident professionalism, an aura of superiority.
"So, although your fiscal needs will be of no concern to you during the duration of your employment, you will also receive, as a bonus, an esteemed honorary position at either of the top three universities of your choice. And, by the way, we already know which three those are."
"But --"
"We already have letters of recommendations from each of the department heads, and the final approval from the deans. Dr. Wu, this conversation will be most efficiently conducted if you can find it within yourself to control these outbursts."
Jocelyn's lips tightened into a thin line, and she felt a moment of confidence wash over her. "Well, Mrs. Halpern, that is a fine offer. But why in the hell would I want to work for someone as eloquent as you?"
Mrs. Halpern's head shifted slightly, as if she were a lizard about to capture an insect.
Then she smiled.
"I knew there was fire in you," she said.
Jocelyn let out a sigh of relief. "What's the job? I'm, uh, happy here, too."
Halpern snorted. "The World Health Organization is a joke, Dr. Wu, and you've known that since the day you joined. Work with us and you'll actually do work, not play recon lead for a sidelined project."
Jocelyn repeated the question. "What's the job?"
"You're already working on it. This metal poisoning you found has... side effects. You're aware of most of them, but there's something else. Something my team uncovered last year."
Jocelyn nearly scoffed. "You've known about the poisoning for a year?"
"No. We've known about it for six. Again, this isn't a team of hacks, Dr. Wu. I've assembled the best in the world, and I want you to join us."
"Tell me more."
"We want you to study these peculiar side effects, to see if they can be enhanced."
"Enhanced? You want me to make the poisoning more potent?"
"More useful, yes. Let me demonstrate." She turned and looked at one of her two men guarding the door. "Johnson. Walk straight."
Johnson immediately began moving, the large man heading straight for another folding chair lying directly in his path. He reached it, but didn't stop. Jocelyn noticed that his eyes didn't even seem to register the chair as he plowed through it.
The chair bounced to the side, clanging as it fell, and Johnson continued until he reached the far wall, smacking into it face first, his legs still moving, as if propelling him forward. .
Mrs. Halpern turned to watch Jocelyn's reaction.
"So, you're telling me you came all the way here to show me something I can train a hamster to do?"
Mrs. Halpern grinned from the corner of her mouth, an odd half-sneer. "I thought you might say something like that."
EIGHT
Mrs. Halpern flicked her hand over her head, and the second man nodded and left the room. A moment later he returned, two other men marching behind him.
Jocelyn frowned when she saw who they had in tow.
Teru.
The head of Panna International, Teru was a self-made entrepreneur whom Jocelyn liked and respected. He was a hard worker, and she had been impressed with his ability to motivate and encourage an otherwise lackadaisical workforce.
She waited for Teru to recognize her, but she noticed that his eyes seemed distant. He wasn't focusing on anything in particular, just looking straight forward at the wall behind her.
Mrs. Halpern hadn't even turned around to watch their entrance. Instead, she peered directly into Jocelyn's eyes, gauging her reaction.
"Wh -- what is this about?" Jocelyn asked.
Mrs. Halpern raised her hand and once again gave it a quick flick -- a small, circular motion.
This time, Jocelyn thought she heard a faint beeping sound, possibly from something hidden in the pocket on one of Halpern's guards.
Mrs. Halpern delivered an order. "Walk forward."
Teru started forward. Jocelyn's eyes widened. "Stop. Teru, stop!"
Jocelyn's words were lost on the older man, but she pleaded again.
Teru continued his forward motion until Mrs. Halpern had had enough.
"Stop," she said calmly, then, "turn right and continue walking."
Teru turned ninety degrees and began walking.
Jocelyn felt tears coming to her eyes.
"What is this? What did you do to him?"
"We did nothing, Jocelyn." Mrs. Halpern finally turned to her subject, pleased with herself. Still facing Teru, who was making his way toward the side wall of the building, she continued. "We merely amplified the effect. You and your team, by not shutting down production a year ago, are more to blame than we are."
Jocelyn was baffled. "I don't -- I can't even..."
Halpern held up a hand. "Of course you don't understand. You've been working with incompetent dropouts. However, we completely understand what's going on. This particular strain of heavy metal poisoning, as you know, is extraterrestrial. Found nowhere else on Earth. What makes it fascinating, therefore, is that it responds to earthly externalities. In this particular case, a high-frequency electronic signal, such as a microwave or radio signal."
"And that lets you control them?"
"In a sense, yes. But that's what we need you for, Jocelyn. Clearly, urging someone to walk in a certain direction is not earth-shattering. But if we can isolate the brain's effected receptors--those that are dedicated to these signals--we can possibly begin to design our own interpretations."
Jocelyn shuddered. Design our own interpretations. She wasn't exactly sure what "interpretations" Mrs. Halpern wanted to design, but Jocelyn was sure it wasn't altruistic.
"Currently our test subjects have shown minimal-to-moderate response to the general wavelength, though different frequencies have no effect whatsoever. We've tried a combination of wave patterns as well as directional inquiries. Nothing seems to multiply the effect, but we're still working. We have one very promising researcher looking at the problem from a programming and artificial intelligence perspective. But our physicists postulate that the missing factor is chemical, rather than physical."
"And that's where you need me."
"Precisely, Dr. Wu. You not only have the specific background for this type of work, you've been actively researching the properties of this phenomenon for five years."
Jocelyn shook her head. "No. You're wrong. I have most certainly not been researching your little mind-control experiment. I've been trying to prevent this sickness from contaminating the entire world's population."
Mrs. Halpern smiled, again with that crooked, sadistic expression. "Yes, I know you believe that. But consider the repercussions if you fail: your work with the WHO is nullified. Your career is invalidated. And your whole raison d'être is compromised."
&nb
sp; Jocelyn set her jaw. "I'll take my chances."
Mrs. Halpern's grin slowly disappeared. "No, Dr. Wu, you won't. Did you think I flew out to this God-forsaken island for fun? To negotiate with you? I am terribly sorry you interpreted my presence here as a request."
Mrs. Halpern removed something from her pocket. A letter.
She unfolded the envelope and slid it across the desk.
"Is this the benefits package?" Jocelyn asked. "The part that will seal the deal?"
Jocelyn flipped the envelope over, only to find the package sealed with a fancy-looking wax circle. The stamp in the middle looked suspiciously like...
She looked closer.
The Seal of the President of the United States.
Jocelyn's hands started shaking, even though she knew the letter couldn't be real.
"It's real," Mrs. Halpern said.
Dr. Wu: the letter began, please accept my apologies that I am unable to extend this invitation in person. I have sent Mrs. Halpern on my behalf...
"You're kidding, right?" Jocelyn asked, looking up from the note. "This is pretty elaborate. To think --"
"Jocelyn," Mrs. Halpern said. Her voice was cold and short. "Other nations will see this plague of heavy metal poisoning as an opportunity to take down their enemies. We, the US, have a lot of enemies. Our military and police forces are becoming less effective, in part due to the very suppression you and I have been studying. The UVFs are effective, but limited. Combining UVF technology with an army of Suppressed would give us a significant tactical military advantage. Not to mention the number of lives that will be saved by having a fully functional emergency services system in place. Something I'm certain you'll care about."
Jocelyn looked down at the letter, as if it would provide any sort of clarity, instead of just presenting even more questions.
"The US, at present, is leading the research into this. We have the power, and we have the resources. We can turn your plague into a recruitment tool for the greatest military in history. The Suppressed will be perfect instruments of our will."
"Slaves?" Jocelyn asked.
Halpern shrugged. "If you choose to see it that way. Liberated is how we see it. You know the research better than nearly anyone else on the planet, Jocelyn. You know how pervasive this metal is. You know that it's already spreading at an unstoppable rate. Your charter changed some time ago from finding a way to stop it to finding a cure. It's already out there. It's already infected everyone. The only hope we have is to find a way to channel what it's doing to the populace. You can help with that. Or ... well, the alternatives aren't very pleasant."
Jocelyn's hands hadn't stopped shaking. She was holding the edges of the letter, afraid to look away from it.
"Your phone will now ring. I urge you to take the call."
Even with the warning, Jocelyn was startled to hear it ring. She picked it up, and it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as she lifted it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Dr. Wu?"
"Yes. Who is this?" It was a dumb question. She recognized the voice immediately.
"This is the President of the United States. I assume you have had a chance to meet Mrs. Halpern?"
NINE
PRESENT DAY
"Look, I told you this was a bad idea," the man said. He had sandy brown hair, floppy and falling over his eyes. He kept brushing it away from his face when he talked. "We shouldn't even have come back for him," he said, turning slightly and pointing at Adam.
Adam's grogginess had turned into something resembling drunkenness. It was still there, but fading--not as potent as it had been minutes ago. A searing headache slammed against his forehead as he moved, and still his legs were sluggish. But he ran. The four others were armed and running alongside him, the sandy-haired man taking the lead.
"Enough," the woman said. "You saw what I saw. They were following him, chasing him even. How many other times you seen that?"
"I get it," the man said. "He's special. Who cares? Even if he's one of us, that doesn't change --"
"It changes everything," one of the patients running alongside Adam said. The man looked ridiculous carrying a pistol while wearing a hospital gown, but he seemed to have a calm and collected demeanor. His eyes were set, staring straight ahead even as he spoke.
Adam blinked a few times to push back the drowsy feeling. Is this real?
The sandy-haired man held up a hand, and the group of five came to a halt. There was a turn in the hallway, and he peered out around it as the steely guy wearing a paper gown continued. "It does, it changes everything," he said. "It's leverage. We may not know anything about this guy, but they definitely need him for something. If we can --"
A trio of rounds from automatic gunfire reverberated down the hall from behind Adam. He turned, his vision sloshing around as he heard the patient scream. Blood splattered, but Adam didn't react. He watched the man who was standing next to him only seconds ago fly forward and down to the slick floor. A puddle of dark crimson was already forming around him.
Adam started hyperventilating. The group immediately reacted, pushing Adam against the wall and pressing together into a group. The woman and the other man wearing a hospital gown aimed their weapons down the hall behind them, but couldn't see anything to shoot at.
A cold fear coursed through Adam as he sucked in air, and he tried to will the feeling away. It was surreal, as if living in another man's body, but his own brain was attempting to control his feelings and emotions. He fell forward and the sandy-haired man caught him.
"Hey," the man whispered, "hey, listen to me." He gently smacked Adam's face. Adam blinked, and found some strength on his still-shaky legs. "We're going to get out of this, okay?"
Adam heard more gunshots, louder this time. They were shooting back. He nodded at the sandy-haired man.
"I'm Jeff," he said. He was still holding Adam by his shoulders, pressing him flat against the wall. "We're going to get your family, and we're going to get out of here. Got it?"
Adam blinked a few times and nodded again. "I'm Adam," he said. His voice was hoarse, weak. And then, "Th -- thanks."
"Yeah, don't mention it." The man released Adam and turned to the rest of the group. "Okay, listen up," he whispered. One head turned to look at him, the woman's, while the other paper-clad patient aimed his rifle down the hall and toward the doors they'd just come through. "Reggie, you keep an eye on our six, shoot anything that moves."
Reggie gave a quick nod.
"Bethany, you and I are going to rush them, around that corner. Adam will try to keep up, but we've got one shot at this. Anyone gets hit, leave them behind. The room we're looking for is T-38, so it should be down this hallway. If they can walk, help them up. If not, roll their beds."
He didn't wait for a response. Adam watched him raise the gun and turn the corner.
The woman, Bethany, followed, and Adam waited a second for Reggie to catch up. He turned and glanced at Adam quickly as he jogged past. Adam followed close behind, but stopped to pick up the first patient's pistol.
Here goes nothing, he thought as he turned the corner.
There was nothing in the hallway. Bethany and Jeff had stopped only a few steps after turning, waiting for movement.
Or noise, or anything.
Instead, there was silence. They walked slowly down the hall, Bethany and Jeff each taking turns glancing through the open doors of the small rooms on either side of the corridor. As they drew farther from the corner connecting the two hallways, Adam was struck by the dimness. There were no lights on here, just a few sets of emergency lights flickering down the length of the hallway.
That can't be an accident.
He thought about it for a moment, still struggling with his subconscious mind for control of his brain. If this place isn't abandoned, they wouldn't leave the lights off.
Unless...
"Hey! Get into one of the r --"
His shout was interrupted by gunfire from somewhere out in fron
t of them, from the shadows. He saw another soda can-shaped object bouncing toward them and instinctively ducked into an open doorway. The others weren't as lucky.
The explosion threw Reggie backwards down the hall, landing almost in the corner intersection between the two wings, and Adam couldn't see the other two. The heat wave subsided quickly, but smoke was already filling the air with an acrid, burning stench. He squeezed his eyes shut, both trying to clear his head and his vision.
He forced himself to his feet, checking for any injuries. Finding nothing but a few scrapes, he lifted the pistol out in front of him and stepped into the hallway. If the attackers were on the other side of the smoke screen, he had a few seconds to check the rooms on this side.
Adam didn't waste any time looking into each of the rooms; any enemies would have already presented themselves. He looked for the room numbers, finding even numbers on the opposite side of the hallway.
T-44, T42. He was getting close, but the bulk of the remaining smoke was growing closer to him as well.
Two more rooms passed on his right. He was in the middle of the thick fog cloud now, and at any moment he expected to run directly into the barrel of an assault rifle.
Instead it was a person.
He hit their body with a dull thud, and he immediately backpedaled and held the gun out in front of him.
"Adam?" the voice was recognizable, but it took him a couple seconds to place.
Kate.
He rushed forward, opening his arms to embrace her. She was sobbing, but wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to just stand there, ignore everything else, and freeze time.
He pushed her away. Not yet. "Kate, where are the kids?" he asked.
"They're in here," Kate said. She started walking toward the closed door, reaching for the knob.
Three shots were fired, from somewhere behind him. At least one of us is still alive, he thought. Bethany's face appeared, a large cut swelling up on her forehead. "You guys okay?" she asked.
Adam nodded. "You?"
"Reggie's checking out Jeff, but I think we're alright." She paused, looking at the clearing smoke. Adam followed the direction she was looking but couldn't see any movement. "They're just around the corner. Probably have a few more grenades, and definitely more ammunition."
