Death and The Divide (25 page)

She raised her head after a time and stared at him. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Sure,” he said. “Me, too.”

She went on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. He longed to kiss her lips. Have some sort of joy and deeper connection in what was likely their final hours. But the moment passed and she lowered her head.

“I can’t believe what we’ve been through,” he said, releasing her. “To have it end here for nothing…”

“I know. I really thought we were coming here to help save the world.” She put a hand to her forehead. “What a naive dumbass I am. It was a trap.”

Min slapped the top of the table. “Damn it. I can’t get it working.”

“Keep at it. I have faith in you,” Linc said. “We’ll need that if we have a hope of breaking out of here.”

“I’d like to know what’s happening outside, too,” Ria said. “I wonder if Omaha is still shielded and my family is all right.”

“Probably,” he said. “With unrest over the coup, they’ll stay in the bubble until it’s safe to come out.”

“Don’t you have anyone you’re worried about?”

“Yes, of course. I have friends and my parents. I also wish the IPP hadn’t fallen to the violent faction. My friend, Jack, is head of the original group. He could be in danger or even dead by now.”

She moved to a chair at the table where Min worked, and Linc joined her. “Did you really think you could have changed the government there?”

He made a triangle with his fingers on the tabletop. Those old emotions of seeking justice flickering like a flame struggling in dying embers. “I did. I wanted to make the Republic into what it was truly meant to be, a government of the people. It started that way, but the donation system created a monster. Corporations and banks gave more than anyone and received the benefits of those contributions. Laws changed to favor them. Breaches of public interest were ignored, and their representatives received positions in the higher levels of congress.

“Then the ultra-right wing started changing the rules to give them more power because they had more money to donate, too. They sanctioned redistricting that gave poor people less and less representation and promoted laws that restricted assistance to those who needed social services. Poor camps formed, helped only by the benevolence of the Church of the South.” The bitter words poured from him in a rush.

“I don’t understand the need for a Church of the South,” Min said. “Can’t you just say you’re a Christian?”

“When the Republic formed, they only sanctioned one definitive form of religion for the country and formed the Church of the South. They outlawed all others.”

“I don’t understand how people accept that,” Ria said. “Don’t they want freedom?”

He shrugged, not sure how to explain. “One of the reasons they warred was over religion. Don’t you remember?”

“So you’re saying that because everyone in the South agrees on the same religion, it’s not a problem.” Min snapped two pieces together.

“That’s a simplistic way of looking at it, but yes. That’s the idea.”

“So if people born after the separation didn’t believe in that religion, what happens to them?” Ria asked.

“They keep it to themselves or immigrate to the North. If they protest, they’re sent to a religious deviant prison.”

“I wish we could all live together,” she said. “I think we’d be stronger together than apart.”

“You’re probably right.” He smiled. “Maybe it’ll happen one day when the heated emotions of the past die away.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” Min asked.

“Abraham Lincoln, a past president my father was fond of, said, ‘
My dream is of a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of earth’
.”

Ria nodded. “I like that. Maybe we’ll die here, but I hope this crisis will serve to show the two sides that they need each other and can solve problems if they work together.”

“Amen,” Linc said. “Too bad we’ll never live to see it.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“I’ve successfully mapped the joined DNA and extracted the bit I’ll use in a serum to inactivate the replication and manipulations of the virus.” Manson’s eyes glittered with victory on the big screen. “What a momentous occasion. I’ve had a video link set up on the detention floor, so when I leave the lab, the next time you see me will be there, to test the serum on a live subject.”

Ria sat between Min and Linc as they stared at the screen. It was a confusing conundrum. She wanted him to fail because no one should be given accolades for curing something they caused, and for what he’d taken from her. On the other hand, if the serum didn’t work, the cannibals would continue to wreak havoc on the world.

Sure, infected individuals could be shot and killed, but that didn’t destroy the parasite and its deadly virus. As long as it existed, the infection would continue to spread. If unchecked, it could wipe out entire species.

Manson left the screen. A few minutes later, the screen split and a scene from the detention floor appeared. Immediately, the overwhelming sound of the caged creatures humming and shrieking filled her ears and sent a chill creeping up her arms. That sound would be forever a harbinger of horror.

The scientist moved to the front of one of the containment cubicles with its metal sides and bars across the front. The cell’s white paint had streaks of blood and claw marks. Five victims housed there stared with bulging eyes and panted through open mouths that dripped saliva. Their ripped and stained clothing barely covered their bodies, but she could still make out the remains of a business suit on two of them. Another had a flower print dress, and the last two uniforms of some type, too shredded to identify.

Scarred, dirty arms reached through the bars, grasping for the humans as hungry eyes devoured the soldiers. The humming intensified until Manson ordered them sprayed with tranquilizers. One by one, the cannibals sank to the floor in heaps of bony limbs and rags.

“Very good. Now you can hear me as I complete the experiment. This first specimen,” Manson said, pointing to the collapsed body of one of the men in a business suit, “came from a nearby town and was identified as Eddie Garner, a banking executive. He was detained about five miles from here along with the man in cell number two. They worked together and did not attack each other. His infection is about five days old as best we can tell. Since his confinement, he has not accepted regular food but has taken in water.

“I will now inject him with the trial serum. If successful, we should begin to see a receding of the symptoms within a few minutes as the virus is deactivated and no longer able to control his brain.”

One of the guards pulled the man’s arm though the bars, and Manson pressed the air-injector against his skin. A small hiss and it was done. The big man and the soldiers stepped to the side so the camera could capture changes as the man woke from the tranquilizer. Manson angled forward, almost poised on his toes in anticipation.

“That’s mondo messed up,” Min said. “They’re still people, not guinea pigs.”

“While we wait,” Manson said, “I can tell you that we have already designed a bullet type syringe for dispensing the cure to those already infected and not incarcerated.”

“What about the oceans?” Linc asked. “Animals need a remedy, too.”

“Maybe he plans to dump a big vat of it into the water or some other lameroid idea.” Min snorted. “What a dill.”

A dill? She started to ask, then Manson spoke again.

“I’m seeing signs of a return to consciousness.” He motioned. “Train the vid on his face then pan back as he rises. I want to have the whole effect on record.”

Whoever controlled the recording complied, focusing on the sunken features covered with a scraggly growth of beard. The man’s eyelids fluttered, then his eyes opened and he struggled to rise. The other prisoners began moving, as well.

He glanced about, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, then grasped bars with his hands and pulled to his feet. The picture widened to take in the prisoner with Manson standing to the side, an expectant expression glowing on his face.

“Here we have specimen number one only a few minutes after an injection of the curing serum. You can tell he’s more sedate than before.” He stepped a little closer. “Sir, I’m Dr. Louis Manson. You were infected with a virus. Can you tell us how you feel?”

The man’s eyes focused on the guards then moved to Manson. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth. A hideous roar issued forth, and the man lunged so quickly they were caught off guard. He grabbed Louis by the neck and squeezed, his teeth bared and his face a mask of aggression.

Manson gurgled a scream, and a guard fired a blaster at the victim. He crumpled immediately, and Louis slid to the floor, wheezing and both hands clasped to his throat.

Ria rose from her seat, a chill entered her body. “Did you see that? He was nearly killed. It didn’t work.”

“It didn’t work,” Linc repeated as if in a daze.

“Fucking dill deserved it.” Min snickered.

Manson lay there, panting and holding his neck. The other prisoners went wild, screaming and shrieking as they banged on the bars. One of the soldiers sprayed them with a tranquilizer.

Manson jabbed a finger at the dead man. “Take him to the freezers on thirteen with the rest of the failed subjects.”

The big man stayed on the floor, rubbing his throat, as two guards dragged the body from the room. Manson’s face quivered, and his cheeks expanded on his blowing breaths. Finally, he rose and stumbled off camera.

Linc looked at her. “Now what?”

“He was so certain his idea would work. I wonder what went wrong?”

“He might try again.” Linc’s hands on the table curled into fists.

She let a hand fall to her stomach. “No.”

He pushed back in his chair, got to his feet, and turned in a circle. “We can’t go like lambs. If they come for us, I’m fighting.”

“With what?”

“For a start, let’s rig those nets to hold one of these tables over the lift opening. When they enter, we can drop it on them.” He picked up one of the chairs. “I think I can break this apart and use the legs as clubs.”

“Uh, they have blasters, Dope. Don’t forget that,” Min said.

Ria went to the wall and began unfastening the fishnet decorations. “Then we should start with the table drop. If we knock them out, we can take their blasters.”

A loud groan brought their attention to the screen. Manson had returned to the lab, and the picture no longer split. One of the soldiers helped him to his desk chair.

“I’m fine. Just leave,” Manson said, coughing and holding his throat.

The other man hesitated. “Can I get you something?”

“No. Go away!”

The man cleared his throat. “You’ll still work on a cure though, right?”

“Of course, you nit wit.” Manson snapped.

The soldier left the view of the screen. The scientist sat at his desk for a few moments, his head in his hands, elbows braced on the surface. Machines in the labs whirred and clicked, lights flashed occasionally for no apparent reason.

“What’s he going to do?” Linc released the chair he held and came to Ria’s side.

“Maybe he has another idea. Plan B.”

“I thought that was plan B. Remember, Plan A was to use our single DNA’s?”

“I think he’s realizing he’s a mondo failure,” Min said. “He’s out of ideas and time.”

“What will the Triumvirate do then?” she asked. “They don’t have a lot of options.”

Manson dropped his hands. His dark skin had turned a sickly gray color, and his eyes looked hollow. She didn’t think he remembered the vid was still on. He lifted an arm and swept the 3D model of the virus from the table beside him. He put his hand over his eyes for a few seconds then opened a drawer on his desk and rummaged inside until he produced a vial and an air-injector.

“What’s that?” Min asked.

She shook her head, but a sinking sense of impending doom crashed upon her. No. A man with an ego as large as Manson’s would never…

“He’s going to kill himself,” Linc whispered.

She dropped the net, her gazed fixed to the screen as Louis loaded the syringe, stared at it a moment, then placed it on his inner arm and hit the dispense lever. It hissed, and he closed his eyes. Slowly, his head lowered to the desk, his arms went limp, and he grew still.

She went to her knees, unbelieving yet unable to take her eyes from the scene. Pounding preceded a crash as guards broke through the locked lab’s door. One of them grabbed Manson by the shoulders and shook him. His lifeless body fell to one side.

They did their best to revive him with electro injections and old-fashioned CPR, but whatever he’d used was effective. He never regained consciousness.

She placed a hand over her mouth and moaned, leaning forward until her head almost touched the floor, sickened by the scene and the senseless loss of a great mind. Why? Why had he done such awful things? They’d worked together for over six years. She’d given up relationships, family commitments and friends to be at his beck and call, but always learning. The loss made her sick to her stomach. When had he lost the part of him that took joy simply from knowledge, from the exhilaration of discovery?

Linc placed an arm around her and lifted her to her feet. “Come to a chair. This is a terrible shock. Min, get Ria a cup of water or something.”

She pressed her trembling hands to her cheeks. She’d never seen a man commit suicide, either. That horrible finality as he went limp would stay with her forever. Linc’s strong arm acted like an anchor, and she didn’t want him to let go. She needed his strength now more than ever. He helped her to a chair and released her.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, kneeling at her side.

“I just can’t believe he did it.”

Min handed her a glass of amber liquid. “I thought whiskey would be more appropriate.”

The sharp smell of alcohol made her squeeze her eyes shut a moment. Then she gulped down a swallow, letting the burn slap her like she needed. “Wow, whew!”

“You know, let’s have a round of that,” Linc said. “I could use a hit myself.”

Min gave a solemn nod and returned from the bar with two more glasses and a bottle.

“Linc, what are they going to do with him gone?” she asked, fanning her face after another scorching drink.

He tossed back a shot. “For one thing, I don’t think we need to worry about building that table drop. We just moved from undesirable prisoners to the best hope for humanity.”

It was true. Manson had gone, but the need to solve the virus problem still existed. As his assistant, she had the next best set of knowledge on the project, and Linc had been involved in the research up to now.

“I want to find a way to thumb those bastard RD fucks,” Min said, scowling. “If we get a cure, let’s not give it to them.”

She shook her head, disgusted at such a sentiment. “I’m not going to hold the cure hostage. Then I’d be like them.”

Linc sat forward, eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Maybe not.”

“What do you mean? You think we should punish the North? You didn’t feel that way when the RD talked about withholding it from the South,” she said, irritated at the suggestion.

“No. That’s not what I mean. If we find something, we have to give it to everyone. But why not use it to make some things right if we can?”

“Spell it out, Dope.” Min refilled their glasses. “This is getting interesting.”

“I have to think about it. Give me a few minutes.” He took a sip of the liquor, running his fingers through his tousled hair. It had grown about an inch since she first met him and no longer followed the short military lines of the original style.

The door to the lift slid open, and three guards entered. Ria gasped, frightened by their sudden appearance. They held blasters pointed at the floor though stood in tense poses. Their gazes went immediately to the screen where the aftermath of the disaster in the lab remained in view.

“You saw what happened to Dr. Manson?” one of them asked, stepping forward.

Linc rose. “Yes. Now what?”

“The plans are still in place. Our priority is to find a cure. That means you, Miss Moralez, and you, Dr. Butler, are needed to continue the research.”

She left her chair and stood side by side with Linc. There was no more Manson to rely on. She had to use her knowledge to stop this scourge. Resolve swept aside her uncertainties. “All right. Let’s go to the lab and get started.”

The soldier’s faces fell into planes of relief and their blaster nozzles lowered even more. They stood aside so she and her friends could enter the lift.

Inside the lab, Ria paused, clamping a hand over her mouth. Manson’s body had been removed, but the syringe still lay on the floor and the equipment he’d swept aside in his final rage littered the area.

The 3-D projector was irreparably damaged, and some of the storage units and file containers had cracked open. The lingering atmosphere of violence returned the vision of his end of life.

She took a deep breath clearing her mind. “We need to clean up, first.”