by Robin Crumby
“How can you be so sure?”
“All the P4 labs are completely secure. Each unit has negative pressure, meaning if there was ever a leak, air leaks in, not out. All the technicians work in pairs in positive pressure suits with their own filtered air supply. The units dealing with airborne pathogens have their own separate air supply. There’s no way it could have contaminated other areas.”
“So if it didn’t originate from the labs, where did it come from?”
“It’s too early to say. There’s a computer terminal in the office over there we can try. Let’s see what we can find out.”
Zed followed Gill through behind the bar to a room where three disused workstations sat, gathering dust. She powered up the nearest one and, after a short delay, keyed in her security details. She pulled up the system diagnostics and navigated through several submenus before she found what she was looking for. She sat down, and her fingers flew over the keyboard, entering command codes.
“As soon as the sensors detect a toxin, the computer starts analysing the sample to see if it can find a match against a pre-built database of biohazards. It’s fairly rudimentary, but it should give us a fast-cycle answer to what we’re dealing with so we can adjust our response. Doesn’t look like it’s finished its analysis yet.”
The vent above their head had fallen eerily silent. It was already noticeably warmer now the air conditioning system had stopped working.
“The backup ventilation system should have kicked in by now.”
“It’s going to get really hot down here without it.”
“Even if the main supply is cut off, the backup system should keep recycling and filtering the air in this section.” She pulled up the screen showing the ventilation system and noticed several amber warnings. “That’s odd. Those backup systems seem to be down as well. I can try rebooting from here.” She tried a couple of entry commands but shook her head. “I don’t have access. It needs a system administrator to activate.”
She opened a dialogue window and drafted a message to the maintenance team to look into it. The phone on the wall beside the bar started ringing, and they heard one of the others answer.
“Gill Forrester? Hold on.”
Gill leapt up and ran through between the tables to snatch the receiver from the barman.
“Thanks. Gill Forrester speaking. Yes, sir.” There was a long pause as she listened carefully. “Do we know when this happened? Okay. How many did you say? I don’t see how that’s possible, do you? Yes, I’m on workstation D487 if you need to reach me again. Can you tell the maintenance team they need to get the air back on in here as soon as they can? It’s beginning to get really stuffy.”
She put the handset back in its cradle on top of the base station and addressed the sixteen others stuck in this section. “The whole base is on lockdown. Looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”
“Did they say how many casualties?” asked Zed.
She ran her hand through her hair, retying her ponytail. “They’re still waiting to hear back from some of the other sections. So far they have five people seriously injured and another fifteen with milder symptoms.”
“Any idea yet what it could be?”
“Well, that’s the odd thing,” she whispered, leaning in. “From his description, it sounded more like exposure to a chemical agent to me. No biological agent I know works that fast. He said the victims were struggling to breathe, chest pains, unexplained rash on exposed skin, loss of motor skills. Let’s see if the computer has completed its analysis.”
She rekeyed her ID and password and progressed through to the sensor analysis area of the intranet. The status was showing as “Red: Organophosphate Detected”. She clicked on the item to display further information, and it showed a paragraph of standard text offering a list of potential hazards and their symptoms.
“Organophosphate? You mean like a garden fertiliser?”
“Except a thousand times more deadly. Organophosphates include gases like VX, Sarin, Tabun. Really nasty stuff.”
“Do you mean to tell me you still keep stockpiles of those gases here?”
“I have no idea.”
“How do we know if we’re safe in here? Shouldn’t we evacuate to the surface?”
“And risk further contamination? This is the safest place. We’re sealed off from the rest of the facility.”
“What about oxygen levels?”
“It’s a big room, and there are only seventeen of us. If we stay inactive, then we should be fine until they rescue us.”
“We better make ourselves comfortable then.”
“You can. I’ve got work to do. Just because we’re stuck here doesn’t mean we’re completely useless. Why don’t you come and join me in the office? We can carry on talking. You haven’t asked me what I found out about Doctor Hardy yet.”
****
Zed watched Gill work from the comfort of a threadbare two-seater sofa. He had tried lying down with a cushion under his head, but the furniture was just too small, his legs hanging over the armrest. Whichever position he tried, he just couldn’t relax.
“Will you stop fidgeting! You’re worse than my old dog.”
“Sorry,” he said, sitting up. “Give me something to do then.”
“I’m waiting for a couple of database queries to come back, and they’re eating up all my processing power. This machine is ancient,” she replied, gesturing at the grey monitor and PC tower under the desk. “No wonder no one uses it any more. Ask me more questions, if you like. I can multi-task.”
“Tell me again what you’re looking for.”
“Clues. I’m trying to figure out how an organophosphate could have gotten into the ventilation system.”
“Sabotage?”
“It would have to be an inside job.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“To disrupt Doctor Hardy’s team, for starters.”
At the bottom of her screen, an incoming message icon started blinking, and she clicked on it.
“It’s Freddie. He’s one of my team. He says: ‘Sorry to hear you’re stuck in the bar. Count yourself lucky! The rest of us are chained to our desks in the office, watching the temperature climb, with no food or water. We’ve just been told they’re evacuating the building room by room, so hopefully, it shouldn’t be much longer. Have a drink for us, won’t you?’ Cheeky sod.”
She typed something back and turned to face Zed. “They’re clearing the floor above, so with any luck, it shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Just then there was a massive rumble, and everything in the room began to shake, tipping books from the shelf on to the floor and disrupting the power. The lights flickered off, and her monitor went dead, plunging the room into darkness. After a couple of seconds, the dim emergency lighting in the other room cut in.
“That sounded like an explosion to me,” said Gill. She picked up the phone and began pushing buttons to dial out. There was no ringtone. “It’s dead. Phone lines are down. That’s never happened before. Grab that torch, will you, just in case the emergency lighting fails. Let’s go and find the others. They’ll be worried.”
****
In the main bar area, dust was drifting down from the ceiling, settling on every surface. Several of the group were still hiding under tables, fearing the worst. The barman was already sweeping up the broken bottles and smashed glasses.
Over by the sealed metal doors, a woman had her face pressed to the small square of glass, trying to see what was going on in the corridor.
“Can you see anything?”
“Nothing. Power must be out on the whole floor,” she lamented, rattling the handle again.
Gill reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you come and sit down over here?”
She led the frightened woman over to one of the tables where two people were getting back to their feet. They made room for her on the leather sofa.
“Why hasn’t the air come back on? It’s
getting hot in here,” someone asked.
“It shouldn’t be much longer now. I just spoke to my team on level two. They’re being evacuated. We all need to sit down and conserve as much air as possible. Everyone stay hydrated.”
She led Zed away back to the office, eager to see if they could get the computer back online.
“How long do you think we’ve got?” whispered Zed.
“A few hours max. After that, it’s going to be unbearable in here.”
****
Gill removed her jacket, and they both sat down on the small two-seater sofa, its tired springs groaning in displeasure under their combined weight. Zed wiggled into the corner against the cushioned armrest, his forearm prickling with perspiration. He could feel the warmth of Gill’s skin through the trouser suit. She noticed his discomfort and patted his leg with a little too much familiarity for Zed’s liking.
“Nothing like a crisis to bring people together.”
“I’m glad we got to spend some time together. I’m just sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”
Her breathing was heavy, as if the heat and accumulation of carbon dioxide in the room were beginning to have an impact on them both. The people around them were languishing on the floor or slumped on chairs, staying as still as possible, trying to conserve energy.
“So you never got married then? Any kids?” he asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
“No. I was never one for settling down. Married to my work, I suppose. Maybe I never found the right person.” She sighed unconvincingly. “I wouldn’t have minded kids. I just didn’t want the relationship bit that went with that. Does that make me sound like a monster?”
“Not at all. After my separation, that’s kind of where I landed. It wasn’t ideal. I got used to seeing my kids on my own terms without all the emotional baggage that goes with it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Gill staring at him with a knowing smile.
“Still wearing that ring though?” she teased.
“Old habits die hard, I suppose. What about you?”
“Me? Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t know already. I’m sure Carol told you.”
“Told me what?”
“I always had a massive crush on you. It’s why Carol and I argued so much.”
“Really?” he said, turning to face her, unsure whether she was joking on not. “I always thought you…” He hesitated. “Played for the other team…”
“Is that what Carol told you? She’s such a conniving cow. She only said that because she knew I liked you. She probably felt threatened, thought I was going to steal you away from her. I can’t believe she said that.”
He rolled his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “Wow. I should be flattered. Women fighting over me. That’s never happened before.”
“A heartbreaker like you? Don’t be so coy.”
“Me?” Zed laughed, amused by her attention.
“Yes, you. You’re just too thick-skinned to notice.”
“Well, it’s news to me.”
“Carol always said you had the emotional intelligence of a rhino.”
“She always did have a way with words.”
“And something tells me that ring on your finger is more a deterrent than a treasured memento.”
“This old thing?” he said, twiddling his wedding band. “It simply means that until I know what happened to my wife, I’m still married.”
“So there is someone else. Come on. Spill the beans. Who is she?”
“It’s nothing. We’re good mates, that’s all.”
“Pull the other one. Name?”
“Look, it’s a long story. She’s called Riley. We’ve been through a lot together. She saved my life, twice.”
“I knew it. You’re such a romantic, holding a secret torch for her.”
“It’s not like that. Anyway, what about you? There must be someone special here at Porton? A good-looking single woman like you?”
“Here? Are you joking? We’re not exactly spoiled for choice in the scientific community, unless you’re into goatees and bad teeth.” Her breathing seemed laboured. “Anyway, Major Donnelly doesn’t approve of personal relationships. It compromises security. This whole place is like one giant fishbowl. Mind you, it doesn’t exactly stop people.” She winked, her eyes struggling to focus.
Zed was also finding it harder to talk and breathe, clutching at his chest. It had grown very quiet in the bar area as everyone fell silent. Perhaps they were sleeping. He was beginning to feel so tired, his thoughts slurred. He yawned, overcome with fatigue. Her hand fumbled for his wrist, holding on tightly.
“Zed, I’m frightened.”
****
When he opened his eyes again, he was aware of the repeated dull thud of someone knocking on the door and voices coming from outside the room. It took him a moment to get his bearings. Gill was asleep beside him. She refused to stir when he nudged her in the ribs.
The knocking continued, and with a superhuman effort he levered himself upright, collapsing onto the linoleum floor, dry retching on all fours. He winced at the pain from his forearm that had taken the force of the impact. He crawled across the floor between the tables towards the doors, stopping every few moments to catch his breath.
The banging at the door intensified. He was nearly there. He could see masked faces in the glass panel staring down at him, muffled voices shouting for him to do something. Their instructions were indistinct. It was like they were spoken in a foreign language. His vision was blurred, and the shapes danced in front of his eyes.
A woman’s voice he recognised sounded so close. Crying out in desperation.
The glass panel in the sealed door buckled and then smashed inwards, releasing a delicious breath of cooler air from the corridor outside. The sound of a heavy axe set to work on the door, splintering the wood around the glass and handle, just large enough for a hand to reach through, groping for the release mechanism. Zed could see it now, just a few inches from their fingertips. His breaths were still short, but with one massive effort he braced himself against the wall and pushed the large green door release button before he slumped to the floor.
Four figures dressed in biohazard suits surged towards him, checking his pulse and looping the strap for an oxygen mask around the back of his head, before attending to the inert body of what he assumed to be Gill a few feet away. Within seconds, his head began to clear as he greedily gulped down the oxygen, tuning into the conversations around him.
“Non-responsive. Quickly get her into the corridor and start CPR.”
It was a relief she was still alive. He could only assume that the oxygen levels had fallen faster than expected in the bar area and that slowly but surely they had been slipping towards asphyxia. Another half an hour and they would all have succumbed to oxygen starvation.
“Zed, can you hear me? It’s Colonel Abrahams. How are you feeling?” he asked, helping Zed upright. “We came as quickly as we could, but we had our own problems to deal with.”
Zed rubbed the back of his head, feeling for injury, checking his arms and legs for bruising or fractures. He seemed fine, but, in his experience, it paid to be careful. His senses were clearing, and when he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse and unfamiliar.
“I’m fine, colonel. What happened? Gill said it was an organophosphate.”
“We’re not sure what happened, but the whole base is on lockdown.”
“Was it a leak from one of the labs?”
“We don’t believe so.”
“Then where the hell did it come from?”
“We think it was a deliberate act of sabotage.”
“But why?”
“We don’t know yet, but it sounds like someone fed nerve gas into the lab’s ventilation system.”
“My God.”
Zed had a hundred questions but was too tired to articulate them. He shook his head and coughed for a full ten seconds, his throat dry. The colonel handed him
a bottle of water.
“Let’s get you out of here and back to the upper levels.”
“What about Gill?”
“Someone will bring her up separately. She’s safe now.”
Chapter Twenty-six
In the near darkness of the headmaster’s house, Terra waited all evening for Briggs to come back from the hospital. Her face was pressed against the glass of the first-floor window, keeping watch over the drive. She was still clutching a cold mug of tea to her chest.
Finally, after several frustrating hours, headlights on high beam announced Briggs’s return. She rushed down to reception just as the doors were flung open and his entourage surged in. He spotted her and shook his head.
“Not now, Terra.”
“Please, babe. I need to talk to you.”
He paused for a second, gesturing for the others to continue without him. “You were an embarrassment back there.”
“Me? An embarrassment? I’m trying to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Look, I’m not in the mood. I told you, you’re too late.”
“You said we were in this together. Stop shutting me out.”
“I’m not going to let you mess this up.”
“This whole plan is half-baked.”
“Stop sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted. You’re a liability.”
“That’s King talking,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re better than them. You really want to be remembered as a mass murderer?”
He pushed her away again. “It’s out of my hands.”
“It’s never too late. Please, I refuse to believe that. Think about the kids, all those innocent kids. There must be some other way for us to get what we want? This can’t be a zero-sum-game.”
“Trust me, there isn’t.”
“King’s manipulating you—”
He slapped her hard across the cheek, his eye twitching. She clutched at her stinging face, but the pain subsided quickly. This was nothing compared to the previous times he had hurt her.
“If you try and get in the way again…” he said, leaving the threat hanging. “King is not as forgiving as I am.”
