Z-Minus (Book 5)

by Perrin Briar

  “Thanks,” Susan said with a smile.

  She paused, starting at the sight of the Advanced Robotics floor. Some of the injured patients were already there, being fitted with prosthetic and robotic limbs. It was a recent line of R&D they’d set up at Charlotte, but they were already making leaps and bounds forward.

  The military was a rich and affluent provider of funds. They saw immediately the implications of being able to replace soldier limbs on the battlefield. They were also developing weapons that could attach to the robotic limbs, so soldiers would be able to return to the field and support their brothers.

  Most of their subjects were civilians. They had three former soldiers: Steve, Oaks, and the third, a tough lady from Texas called Taylor. She wore a robot leg that could also function as a gun. She stood with it up on a walking bar, leaning over it to aim, and pulled the trigger.

  Click!

  “Itching to use live ammo?” Susan said.

  “Damn skippy,” Taylor said.

  “Live practice is next week,” Susan said. “Shall I add your name to the list?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Taylor said. “If you can get some ragheads to shoot at, it’d be much appreciated. Pay them back for my leg.”

  Susan smiled.

  “I’ll talk with the printers,” she said. “They might be able to get some custom cutouts for you.”

  “Who was talking about cutouts?” Taylor said.

  Susan laughed at Taylor’s joke. She stopped when she realized Taylor wasn’t smiling. Taylor wasn’t known for her sense of humor.

  “Steve and Oaks are doing yoga in the park,” Susan said. “You weren’t up for it?”

  Taylor rolled her eyes.

  “Yoga’s for pussies,” she said.

  An assistant helped Taylor down from the bar. She was relearning how to walk, forcing her body to do things it had forgotten. Taylor was in great shape, and was learning fast.

  Sweat poured down the civilians’ faces, exhausted from the exertion. They wiped at their foreheads with a towel and got up to try again. Susan nodded at them as she passed. Phil looked at them shyly. He wasn’t good at being social.

  They moved through the department, to the other half of the fifth floor. This space was largely empty, with workbenches full of advanced scientific equipment. It was the VIRUS PREVENTION department. One day it was going to change the world.

  “Want a drink with me later?” Phil said.

  “Maybe next week,” Susan said.

  “One of these days ‘next week’ will actually happen,” Phil said.

  “I’m sorry Phil,” Susan said. “I’m just not ready.”

  “It’s been two years,” Phil said.

  “I’m still not ready,” Susan said.

  “Will you ever be ready?” Phil said.

  “When I am, yours will be the first drink I accept,” Susan said. “How about that?”

  Phil grinned, his mouth as big as his eyes, made larger by his glasses. He looked like the Cheshire Cat.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

  He turned to leave.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, turning back. “We’ve been getting a transmission from the New York facility.”

  Susan frowned. She turned to look at the machine at the top of the room. One of Archie’s robotic arms was whirring away, working hard. They weren’t expecting anything from the New York Institute today.

  “Any idea what it is?” Susan said.

  “Not yet,” Phil said. “I asked for details, but they haven’t replied yet.”

  Susan nodded.

  “They’re probably just running a test,” she said.

  Still, they would normally let them know ahead of time. She would have to check it out, just in case. A thick knot grew in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t help but sense something was wrong.

  7:14 am

  Archie made soft whirring movements as he picked out various chemicals from the shelf on the back wall and put them into a single test tube. It spun around, mixing them together.

  The arm constantly moved, never taking a break, twisting and turning in combination, all but impossible with a human’s physiology. Archie was their sequencing machine. He could pull apart complex compounds and rebuild them using 3D printing technology.

  The technology was advancing at a terrific rate.

  In 2015 a 3D printer was shipped to the International Space Station with the purpose of removing any need to send any products up to the ISS ever again. It would save hundreds of millions of dollars every year.

  If someone required a new wrench, the astronauts onboard would simply download the blueprints, feed it into the 3D printer, and it would fashion one for them. They could even create ad hoc changes and alterations as required. And it didn’t stop at tools. It could be used for all kinds of items.

  The technology was still in its infancy, but it was already changing the way things were done. The possibilities were limited only by humanity’s imagination, a resource that could be mined indefinitely.

  According to Craig Venter, an entrepreneur and pioneer in the genetics industry, it would one day be possible to ship bio sequencers to the surface of a planet we wish to inhabit, and then upload living organisms that would terraform the atmosphere to be conducive to humans. Such things previously only existed in sci-fi books. Now, they were real.

  Archie was a sequencer capable of picking apart, backward engineering, and rebuilding any life fed to him. If God had created the universe, the human race would soon have access to his blueprints.

  Archie could even build a cure, simultaneously working in reverse from imported virus DNA, to come up with an antigen. This information could then be uploaded into the cloud where public healthcare organizations all over the world would have access to it, and immediately begin mass-producing the cure for their population. It was a bold new world, but not one without danger.

  The fear, as always, was for the technology to fall into the wrong hands. For now, it was safe. They were at the very beginning of research, taking its infant steps into the world. But it would need to grow up quick, along with safety protocols.

  A figure stood before the machine with a hand cupped under his chin in a contemplative pose. Susan’s heart fluttered. She was quick to beat it down. Traitor!

  Richard was tall, with dark hair that spilled to his shoulders. He cupped an elbow in the palm of one hand, as he often did when faced with something perplexing. He was greying at the temples, but rather than make him look old, it gave him an official air that was not unpleasant.

  “Phil mentioned Archie turned on automatically,” Susan said. “That he was working on something from New York.”

  Richard turned. His eyes caught Susan’s and held them for a moment. Susan hated that it sent a shiver through her. She steeled herself against him. A prow against a raging storm.

  “The New York branch did indeed send something,” Richard said.

  “Any idea what it is?” Susan said.

  “Not yet,” Richard said. “But early analyses suggest it could be some form of bacteria.”

  Richard was the only person Susan knew who could reliably rise earlier than she. And without the need of an alarm.

  Susan approached the terminal and tapped at the keys, bringing up the programming code. Richard stood beside her. Tall and confident, his presence always calmed her. She was distracted with him being so close, but she refused to let him know that. She ignored him.

  “I already checked the file,” Richard said. “There was no message.”

  Susan checked anyway. He was right. There was just the code and no accompanying paperwork. Usually there was at least a document that told them what the procedure was in aid of.

  “That’s odd, don’t you think?” Susan said. “If they think we’re doing all the paperwork for this, they’ve got another thing coming. Did you call them?”

  “As soon as I arrived,” Richard said.

  He took out his inhaler, p
ut it to his mouth and depressed the button. His asthma always played up when he was nervous or excited.

  “And?” Susan said.

  “Nothing,” Richard said.

  Susan shook her head.

  “Maybe they sent it by accident, or thought they’d cleared it or something,” she said. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Maybe,” Richard said in a tone that suggested he didn’t really believe that. “But this looks like something new, something we haven’t worked on before.”

  Susan closed the terminal and shrugged.

  “It’s contained,” she said. “Unlikely anything will escape. It should be fine.”

  “Except I wanted to run some diagnostics before the presentation today,” Richard said. “Now I can’t.”

  “You’ve run tests already,” Susan said.

  “Never hurts to be prepared,” Richard said.

  It was always in his personality to be a perfectionist. Another reason Susan loved him. Had loved him, Susan reminded herself. She shook her head.

  “It might be good for the investors to see Archie in action,” Susan said. “So they can see what he can really do.”

  Richard put his elbow in his hand again and looked Susan up and down in his signature pose of curiosity.

  “What?” Susan said.

  “Are you going to give the presentation in your workout finest?” Richard said, the corners of his lips turning up.

  Susan looked down. Her cheeks burned red. She was still in her jeans and T-shirt. She’d meant to go to the changing rooms down the hall but Phil had distracted her. But she wouldn’t be told what to do by Richard.

  “So what if I did?” she said, hand braced on her hip.

  Richard ran his eyes over her. They felt like his hands.

  “Perhaps the black dress you wore for our last anniversary,” Richard said.

  Damn him. That was the dress she was going to wear anyway. Now he’d think she’d worn it just to please him. But she hadn’t. Had she?

  Susan turned away, at a loss for what to say. She felt Richard’s eyes on her. She blushed, knowing the thoughts going through his mind. Damn him for the way he could still make her feel.

  And damn me for letting him.

  9:22 am

  Susan wore the figure-hugging black dress with matching heels. She’d changed her mind half a dozen times, reaching for a blue number, but finally she’d decided to wear this one. Not for Richard, she’d told herself, but for herself. She wasn’t sure if she believed that.

  Her blonde hair tickled her bare shoulders as she closed her office door. Richard met her in the corridor. He’d taken off his white doctor’s coat and smiled when he saw her. Susan hated that she loved that.

  She held her clutch purse close, a shield. They walked down the corridor toward the elevators. They didn’t say a word.

  A powerful wolf whistle exploded down the hall, the kind that bursts the eardrums if you’re too close.

  “Hey, hey!” Steve shouted. “Looking good, doc!”

  It wasn’t the most flattering of comments, but a mid-thirties single mom took all the compliments she could get.

  “As good as the yoga instructor?” Susan said.

  “At least as good,” Steve said with a grin.

  He was leaning against a cabinet. His prosthetic arm was fastened tight to his stump of an arm, held rigid by black straps. He was wearing only his underpants and vest.

  “You can ogle me too if you like,” Steve said.

  “In your dreams,” Susan said.

  “Every night,” Steve said with a wink. “Good luck with the presentation.”

  “Thanks,” Susan said.

  Steve turned back to the mat on the floor. An assistant nodded, and Steve executed a perfect forward roll, coming up onto his feet. His balance was a little unsteady, but it was a huge improvement over the functionality he had just a few weeks ago.

  That was the best part of Susan’s job – seeing how she made a difference to people and their lives. Archie was her crowning achievement – he could potentially save millions of lives one day, but they were all distant, impersonal. With their prosthetic limb projects she could see the help they were giving people firsthand.

  She and Richard stepped into an elevator. The doors closed. The space was close, intimate. Susan cleared her throat. They were silent.

  “Is that the Chanel you’re wearing?” Richard said.

  Susan rearranged her skirt.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “It’s nice,” Richard said.

  Susan made a show of breathing in deeply through her nose, taking in his scent, but she already knew what he was wearing.

  “Hugo Boss?” she said.

  “Of course,” Richard said.

  “Good scent,” Susan said. “Whoever bought it clearly has good taste.”

  “What made you think I didn’t buy it myself?” Richard said.

  “Ha!” Susan said.

  It had been her gift to him on their third anniversary. The thought of him buying it for himself was laughable. They’d gone on a weekend trip together. They’d had a wonderful time. It was where they’d conceived Amy. But that was a long time ago.

  “That she does,” Richard said.

  They traveled in silence. Everything they’d wanted to say they’d said, dozens of times. But despite two years, their wounds still felt raw and fresh. Susan had begun to wonder if either of them would ever move on, find other people, but each time she considered it, it left a nasty taste in her mouth.

  The glass elevator glided silently to the first floor. The doors opened. They were assaulted by the undulating tones of discussions across the foyer.

  Susan’s stomach dropped. She suddenly felt nervous. So much for it not helping. Richard must have sensed her trepidation because he placed his hand on the small of her back. He didn’t push. He knew he didn’t need to.

  Susan swallowed what little saliva was in her mouth and stepped out of the glass elevator. She crossed the wide path to the circular center garden. It was an oasis of calm in a bustling research institute. The water tinkled in the fountains. The smell of nature embraced Susan. She closed her eyes and let herself become enveloped in it.

  But she could still hear the murmurs of the people on the other side of the foyer, heading toward the large presentation room, encroaching on Susan’s tranquility. Each time the door opened, a hundred conversations spilled out.

  Susan gathered herself and took a step toward the presentation hall.

  “Wait,” Richard said. “You can take your time. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  “Yeah,” Susan said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because there are a lot of important people in there,” Richard said.

  “Isn’t there always?” Susan said.

  “I mean really important,” Richard said. “As in, one check, one financer. It’s all we’d need.”

  Wealth never impressed Susan. She was surprised why so many people were. But then, she’d been surrounded by wealth her whole life. She’d seen what it could do to people. Some people achieved their dreams, others didn’t, but the real shame was having all the money in the world given to you and not even attempting to find your dream.

  “I’m good,” Susan said. “Let’s go.”

  Richard pulled on his inhaler. He was clearly nervous too.

  Richard pushed the door open so Susan could enter first. She was immediately struck by how many people there were. The auditorium could seat twelve hundred. No presentation they had ever given had even filled half that number. Today, many of the guests would be forced to stand. They would all want to meet Susan. She sighed. It was going to be a long day.

  Richard was at his best, introducing, smiling, shaking hands. He was the more social of the two and actually enjoyed prying money from their cold hands. Susan was passed from one person to another, a living pass the parcel, with Richard whispering their names in her ear. It was pointless. She would nev
er remember them all anyway.

  Most of them knew very little about computer engineering or what they were trying to achieve at the research center, but she had learned long ago that if you had money you didn’t need to understand. You just needed to give your money to the right people, and the right people were those who sounded like they knew what they were talking about.

  And yet some clearly did know about modern technology, pretending they knew less than they did, asking fumbling questions, deliberately mispronouncing words, all in an attempt to get Susan to spill industry secrets. Susan had met people like them before. She sidestepped the issue by saying she hoped they would let her and Richard worry about the science. The man smiled at her through his teeth.

  After thirty minutes, Susan was exhausted. Richard, ever attentive, turned Susan around and led her toward the stage.

  “Great job,” Richard said.

  “How come there are so many?” Susan said. “We’ve never had this level of interest before.”

  “We’ve never had so many high-profile cases of outbreaks in the news either,” Richard said.

  The words were out of his mouth before he had run them through his mind. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and planted his hands on either side of his narrow waist.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean…”

  That was the problem with having subjects that were out of bounds between them. They were so easily brought up, even accidentally. A whisper of it was a ten-ton weight. Susan’s tongue felt like it belonged to a whale.

  “It’s fine,” Susan said. “Really. What happened, happened.”

  Richard shook his head.

  “I was clumsy,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Susan’s eye caught on a sharp army uniform standing to one side. She told herself it was the presence of the military that grabbed her attention, not the fact she was looking for something, anything, to distract her.

  The officer was in a deep conversation with someone, but he had his eyes firmly fastened on Richard and Susan.