Haven

by Justin Kemppainen

  Gottfried glared, “Why haven’t they transferred the prisoners to Alpha base?”

  The man flipped through a few more pages of handwritten notes. “Uh… oh. Here it is. They’ve been locked down in the club waiting for clear streets. The assault on…” he paged through more sheets, “‘Heavenly Bodies’ took a longer than expected. They had just barely secured the prisoners they had when the run-in happened.” He started punching buttons, and he held the microphone up to Gottfried. “You can talk to them, if you like; it’s just about scheduled update time.”

  The Inquisitor grabbed the communicator and spoke, “Alpha base, respond.”

  “This is Alpha, go ahead.” Gottfried didn’t recognize the voice.

  “This is Inquisitor Herman Gottfried. I am looking for a full update on the current situation.”

  “Yes, Inquisitor. Of course. I’ve just heard back from Gamma, they’re wrapping up the secondary objective and bringing a few dozen prisoners to a holding area.”

  “The High Inquisitor is displeased with your lack of progress. What is taking so long down there?” Gottfried’s voice betrayed his irritation.

  The transmitted voice sounded nervous, “It’s just a few delays. They dug in at the club and storming it took longer than expected; most of the night, really. Then there was the latest skirmish.”

  “Is there an end in sight?” Gottfried frowned.

  “Well, if what they’re telling me is right, they should be about wrapped up with the primary mission in several hours.” There was a pause with muffled, indistinct speaking on the other end. “Let’s see… prisoner transfer, breaking down and transporting equipment from Gamma… Yeah, we probably won’t be ready to come out until morning.”

  Gottfried grinded his teeth, creating a wretched, low scraping noise that caused all of the soldiers in the room who were watching to cringe. “Morning?” Tension tugged at the edges of his long lost composure, “We were assured by Captain Redgick that the latest possible extraction time would be this morning at 10:00 o’clock. Where is he?”

  The operator sounded nervous, and he stuttered, “W-well, I…” there was a faint crackle and a pause, “it’s not my fault, sir. Redgick’s wounded, and th-the lieutenant has taken over. He hasn’t been in contact as often.”

  Gottfried closed his eyes and sighed, “Fine. Report in as often as possible, and tell Redgick that there will be severe consequences for his complacence.”

  He handed the receiver back to the radio operator who took it without a word. “I want updates every half hour. With something new. Encourage them to move more quickly if you have to.”

  The various operators in the room all nodded and mumbled a quick affirmation. Gottfried turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The double doors closed behind him. Before he walked out of the elevator room, he said to the two bored-looking men, “Keep an eye on the operators in that room and inform me if they continue their pattern of sloth and complacence.”

  The men also mumbled quick acknowledgements and Gottfried walked out of the room, down the hallway, and back into the sinking daylight.

  ******

  Surprising himself, Gregory Michaels didn’t go back to his office, even after he had grabbed another cup of coffee and a little bit of supper from the mess hall. Something about his experience with Dunlevy left him nervous and wanting to be in the company of other people.

  No, he thought to himself, that’s not all of it. There’s something else. Indeed there was: he felt curious.

  It was thus that he wandered through the various places in the Institute building, passing through the main lobby out of his own sector until he reached the Experimental Design wing. He waved his badge at the reception desk, and, with a puzzled look, the attendant buzzed him through. It was a bit strange for him to go that way; Michaels could count on one hand the number of times he’d visited that area.

  He passed into another of those sterile white hallways, this one with a thick, dark blue line of tiles passing down the center, probably to differentiate from the other sections and remind people where they were. The Experimental Design wing was on the eastern arm of the civilian branch of the Institute. Doorways on either side led to large rooms and labs for research and testing, as well as a few offices. At the very end of the hall lay a set of doors leading into a fairly large open room for larger projects. Michaels passed through without so much as a glance from the guard.

  Inside he saw rows and stacks of equipment and machinery. On his left, a metal-grating staircase led up to an overlooking office. On the floor, numerous small vehicles were crowded near a large sliding door, which led to the outside. Though he couldn’t see it, Michaels also knew there was more fenced-in space outdoors for miscellaneous testing of certain implements.

  Over on the right against the wall was a wide ceramic workbench. Upon it sat a wide cylindrical tube made of shining stainless steel, smooth and sleek. A small curved section had been removed, and Claudia Laverock, in her skirt, lab coat, and high heels, Michaels rolled his eyes at the impracticality, was hunched over the opening.

  Michaels walked up to her and cleared his throat. Still hunched over, she turned her head and saw him, out of the corner of her eye. He heard a slight sigh escape from her, and she stood up and turned around. She folded her arms and leaned up against the bench, looking at him expectantly.

  It was at this point that Michaels realized that he had thought of nothing to say when he arrived. He sat there considering in silence until Claudia raised an eyebrow and said, “Well?”

  Michaels frowned and replied, “Well, what?”

  Claudia put on an incredulous look, “Well, you interrupted my work. What are you doing here?”

  Michaels closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. “To be honest…” he hesitated. “I’m not exactly sure.”

  She scowled at him, “Then go away, I’m working.” She turned back towards the device.

  The curiosity sparked, “Ah, yes.” He walked forward and looked at the cylinder. It was about as long as his forearm and wide as the palm of his hand. Inside the open panel, he could see a few wires scattered about. Behind those were long vials filled with liquid solutions. As he stepped in to take a closer look, Claudia cut in front of him.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  He peered around her at the cylinder, “Is that it? Is that part of the contingency plan?”

  She gritted her teeth and answered, “Yes it is.”

  Some of his conversation with Dunlevy echoed in his mind. He tried to be nonchalant, but the result came out more as fumbling awkwardness, “So, I uh, heard that it’s getting close to completion.”

  She eyed him warily, “From whom?”

  “Arthur.”

  Claudia glared at him. “Citizen Dunlevy doesn’t have the slightest idea what this project entails, and it would be delightful if he didn’t run around gossiping about it to the other people who don’t have the slightest clue either.” There was a clear hint of dismissal in her tone, but he ignored it. She turned around and pretended to keep working. Michaels watched her with an amused expression, noting her tense posture and sidelong glances to see if he’d left.

  “Well?” He finally asked.

  “Well, what?” She practically shouted, whirling around again.

  “Is it almost finished?” Michaels felt a strange satisfaction at her exasperation.

  Claudia and threw up her hands, “The latest prototype of the agent with its delivery device and payload is what you see here. There, are you happy?”

  “What is it?” Michaels asked, tenacity burning through him.

  She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

  Michaels saw the irritation in her face and stance, and he thought, that’s exactly how I feel when Dunlevy is around. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

  “Of course, my apologies for disturbing you Citizen Laverock,” he said with a slight bow. “I’m just curious; that’s all.�
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  Claudia rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “It’s a biochemical agent that, when properly mixed, seeps out of the ends of the canister,” she gestured at the cylinder, which Michaels finally noticed had slits at both flat sides. “The substance mimics a heavy fog that,” she winced, “should stay at or close to ground level.”

  Michaels frowned, “Should?”

  The woman’s scowl returned, “The mixture has been tricky. Nailing down the density while maximizing potency hasn’t been easy, but it’s the only way to keep it from rising up into our own streets.” She shook her head. “I can’t be certain unless I run further tests on it and make modifications. However, Wresh is pushing for me to have the next functioning prototype,” she swept a gesture at the cylinder, “by tomorrow.”

  “What if it isn’t actually ready by then?” Michaels asked.

  Claudia scoffed, “They don’t care about that. Wresh just wants something he can use to kill a bunch of people quickly,” her tension level continued rising as she spoke, “I can’t even be sure that he’s planning on using it in down below or somewhere else.”

  Michaels narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

  Claudia stiffened, as though realizing what she had said, “Look, forget I said anything about it, okay?”

  Michaels shrugged, but decided not to force the issue. “What does the substance do?” He asked, changing the subject.

  She swallowed hard and lost some of her color, “It’s an agent that absorbs through the skin. Once inside the bloodstream it has a reaction that causes organic corrosion,” she shuddered, “the vessels decay and leak until the person bleeds out internally.”

  “Is it painful?” He asked, eyes wide.

  She nodded. “Extremely.”

  Something about the compound just seemed too terrible to exist, and it made Michaels feel almost sorry for the denizens it was intended for. Sympathy was an odd sensation for him that didn’t seem to occur often. He took a short backwards step, away from the workbench. “How much exposure until it’s fatal?”

  “It depends. If it just absorbs into the extremities, then a few minutes of contact. If it’s inhaled…” she shook her head. “There’s no chance.”

  She continued, “Obviously, we haven’t yet tested it on any human subjects, but animals haven’t survived any more than about forty-five seconds. A full-sized human would probably last quite a bit longer.”

  “Antidote?”

  She shook her head, “No. Unless there was a minimum of exposure and the subject was able to wash it off quickly. Even then their chances are slim.”

  Michaels took another step away from it, nervously, “Doesn’t it worry you?”

  Claudia hesitated and bit her lower lip, “Well… Yes, it does. I know that we aren’t supposed to care about anyone from down below, but this compound scares me. Even when we use it on animals, I can barely stomach it. It’s such a horrible way to die.” She turned around and leaned on the workbench with both hands. “I’m just not cut out for this kind of research.” He could see moisture forming in her eyes.

  Michaels was taken aback by her sudden rush of emotion, “Uh… I meant… doesn’t working with something so lethal,” he jerked his head towards the canister, “right next to you, make you at all nervous?”

  Leaning against the table, Claudia wilted. Michaels watched as she hung her head for a few seconds before standing up straight and turning around. She wore a smug expression, “I work with hazardous materials all of the time. I take proper precaution so, no. It doesn’t bother me.” Any trace of her sentimental flood had faded.

  Michaels smirked, “You don’t deal with warfare materials often, I take it.”

  This seemed to strike a nerve and she resumed her irritated scowl, “No, if it makes you happy, I don’t often work with military-related projects.” She raised her chin. “At least I didn’t make my reputation from ruining people.”

  He shrugged. “They aren’t people, Claudia; they’re garbage. Not worth saving or dealing with.” Even as he said the old line, something in it rang false. He tried to cast the thought aside, but it lingered in his mind.

  Claudia sneered, “Said like a true Citizen underling. Tell me, have you ever had any sort of independent thought in your entire miserable life?”

  Michaels opened his mouth with a barbed retort ready to spill out when a loud klaxon blared through the warehouse area.

  Claudia threw her hands up in the air. “God dammit!” she yelled as dozens of people walked briskly towards the door. She started moving as well, giving a shove to the confused Michaels. He stumbled, then fell in line with the rest of the staff. Instead of heading out of the main exit, staff members walked towards openings on either side in, to Michaels’s eye, no particular arrangement. He walked in front of Claudia, who was muttering random curses under her breath, toward the left door. He turned to ask her what was going on, but the brief distraction caused him to bump into the person in front of him.

  A young woman, rather pretty, shot him a glare before walking into the wide, white room. Michaels mumbled an apology and followed her in. They walked into the room. On the right, there was a small viewing window with glass. Behind it stood a few people with bored or irritated looks on their faces.

  People continued to file in until the room was on the uncomfortable side of crowded. Michaels had lost sight of Claudia in the close packing of bodies. He still didn’t know what was going on. The lights darkened, the entrance slid shut, and the room filled with a kind of mist.

  Irrationality and panic flared through Michaels’ mind, having just considered a certain kind of excruciating and lethal substance for usage against a large group of people. Everyone else just stood calmly, wearing the same bored or annoyed expressions as the people behind the glass. His heart raced, and he tried to shove past people towards the exit, but they just gave him dirty looks and didn’t move out of the way.

  He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes shut, and held his breath as the translucent fog filled the chamber. It felt cool on his skin, almost soothing, but he could imagine his blood vessels rupturing, his flesh sloughing off-

  With an almost impossibly loud whoosh! air rushed past him from beneath, ruffling his clothes and scattering his thin hair. His eyes popped open and he saw the rest of the people, now looking more irritated while their own hair and clothing blew around. The fans disengaged, and a door at the opposite end of the chamber slid open.

  The various scientists and other researchers walked out of the room. Michaels caught a glimpse of Claudia, marching along very much like everyone else as though this event was commonplace. Maybe it is, he thought, starting to relinquish his panic.

  He pushed his way through the crowd of people, tapping Claudia on the shoulder when he reached her. She gave him a quick glance and frowned, still not looking pleased to see him in the least.

  Michaels was about to ask about what just happened when Claudia cut in, “This is why I don’t worry about it much. The decontamination procedure is thorough and efficient.” She grabbed his arm and led him to the side, allowing other people to pass by. “It’s, unfortunately, also overly sensitive.”

  Michaels nodded and rubbed his chin, “I see your point, I suppose.”

  “Good. Now leave me alone.” She waved him away with a ‘shooing’ gesture.

  He raised an eyebrow at her and walked away down the hallway. Before he went around the corner, he turned back towards her. She watched him expectantly. He opened his mouth to say something about how he wasn’t an underling, or that he would show her and everyone else, but he couldn’t find words that didn’t seem hollow and empty.

  Instead, he gave her a nod. He said, “See you later, Claudia,” before turning and walking away.

  Chapter 28: …Come to an End

  On the surface of Haven, at this time of day, Kaylee could have been watching the last rays of sun shimmering and fragmenting through the sterilization field into a trillion colors of be
autiful warmth, all glittering into the deep blue twilight. Where she was walking, however, there was naught but the steady pale yellow drone of the few functioning street lamps with some eyes well-adjusted to perpetual dim.

  She and Malcolm found themselves walking through what would have passed for the more wealthy area of Haven, near the southern slope of the valley. There weren’t any massive homes with gigantic yards; space was too valuable to allow any of that. Most of the wealthier citizens were happy enough with the high-rise condominiums that dotted the region as well as the expensive, high-quality, or rare merchandise shopping.

  Kaylee stopped and held up a hand. Stretched across the road was a bundle of heavily insulated cable. As she looked it over, she could see frayed patches. Not an electrician, she couldn’t tell whether or not the wires were live or dead. Looking, around, she didn’t see any light from street lamps, and she thought that live wires were supposed to dance and spark. She frowned, and decided not to risk it. Maybe this is why people don’t live here, she thought, there’s no electricity.

  They doubled back and took a different street; this one was filled with various rubble, spilled over from a massive garbage pile. A dumping site, she thought. Maybe worth a look later.

  She could see rusted bits of metal scattered around in the trash heap, good enough to warrant a thorough search for salvage. She blinked. That is, she thought, if we end up staying here much longer. The corners of her mouth turned in a slight smile at the prospect.

  She pursed her lips as she looked around at the dozens of buildings around, all of them connecting to the surface and providing an equal opportunity for a random half-crazed Citizen to breach through the sealed off areas. From what Miguel had said, she knew that he had to have come through one of the condominiums. Unfortunately, it wasn’t any more specific than that. She sighed, and the two entered the nearest one. Have to start the search somewhere, she thought.