How in God’s name could they have managed this?
“Something wrong?” asked Dr. Bastion.
“Don’t. Move.” The Checquy doctor looked at her curiously. “We may be in serious trouble.” He started to take his hands out of the torso. “No, don’t do that! Just stay still.”
“What’s the problem?” came Rook Thomas’s voice from a speaker. Odette looked up to the gallery and saw the Checquy executive pressed up against the glass, an intercom phone in her hand.
The problem was a small sac tucked away in the folds of a larger-than-usual large intestine. There weren’t any tubes or nerves linking it to other organs; it was just stitched in there, sewn with a cloth ribbon that, before it had spent some time inside an abdominal cavity, had been white. There was even a bow on top. Several ridges of muscle encircled the sac like the rings of Saturn. Occasionally, it gave a little tremble, the muscles flexing softly. Then she noticed something else.
Drawn on the sac with some sort of indelible marker was a smiley face.
“They have left what appears to be a Tartarus gourd inside this man,” said Odette tightly.
“What?” exclaimed Ernst.
“What’s a Tartarus gourd?” asked the Rook, looking nervous.
“It is impossible!” said Ernst. “They could never have made one — those take years to ripen.”
“What are we talking about?” said the Rook.
“And how could they even source a hippopotamus in which to ferment the base stock?”
“Ernst!” shouted Thomas. She took a breath and went on at a calmer volume. “What. Exactly. Are we talking about?”
“It’s a biological weapon,” said Odette. “Can you see the sac thing there?” She pointed at it, and the camera hummed as it zoomed in. “Those muscles ringing it are designed to tear the sac open and then squeeze to release its contents.”
“Okay, well, not to panic. You’re wearing armor,” pointed out Rook Thomas. “And environmental suits.” Behind her, Graaf Ernst was saying something, and she clicked off the intercom to turn and listen. Odette knew exactly what he was telling the Rook. Thomas looked rather startled when she turned back. “So, apparently the Grafters have developed accelerated bacteria that can eat through metal, plastic, and... living tissue. All in a matter of moments. Great.” She turned to Ernst. “Why on earth would you people develop those sorts of things?”
“Because of you people,” said Graaf Ernst easily, his voice just caught by the intercom. “Don’t worry, though, they’re very short-lived.”
Yeah, just long enough to eat through our armor and then through us, thought Odette.
“Well, any suggestions?” asked Dr. Bastion tightly. Odette had to give him credit, he was handling the situation fairly well, although she could see a sheen of perspiration through his helmet’s face screen. His hands, however, were dead still amidst the entrails of the corpse.
“We’re thinking,” said Ernst. His voice boomed over the intercom — apparently they had switched it over to speaker mode. “And Marie is on her way. But we don’t expect that she’ll get here in time.”
Okay, thought Odette. Maybe we should use the fire button? I’m fairly certain that would kill whatever stuff is in there. She eyed the sac carefully. It’s got muscles, so I could try using my octopus venom to paralyze the fibers. Except that would mean taking off my gloves, and I’m not all that keen on that. Plus, there’s no guarantee that it would work.
“Maybe we should fill the room?” Security Chief Clovis asked Rook Thomas, who bit her lip. “At the very least, I think we should evacuate all the executives from this observation area.” Odette caught a glimpse of Pawn Clements at the window, looking surprisingly concerned.
“This is glass, yes?” said Ernst, tapping at the window.
“Yes.”
“It’s fine, then,” said the graaf dismissively. “We have never cracked a glass-eating bacterium. Nor a stone-eating one. There are a few natural ones out there, but we could never modify them effectively. They always burned themselves out in seconds. It was extremely irritating,” he mused. “We really should revisit those projects.”
“Anyway,” said Rook Thomas, “other ideas?”
“Rook Thomas, this thing is organic,” said Odette. “Can you do anything with your powers?”
“There is absolutely no way that Rook Thomas is going in there,” said Security Chief Clovis firmly.
“Actually, my powers can reach through glass,” the Rook said. She squinted down into the room. “That said, the... what do you call it? Gourd? It’s like a little grenade?”
“I suppose,” said Odette.
“It’s bloody small,” said the Rook. She leaned against the glass and closed her eyes. “And complex. Very fiddly.” She frowned. “I’ve got it. No, wait, no I don’t.” She winced as she said this last part, and Dr. Bastion and Odette exchanged alarmed looks. “I’ve got it. Oh, bugger!” The two autopsists couldn’t help but flinch. “Nope, I’ve got it!” Everyone heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, don’t just stand there — run!”
“Oh!” gasped Odette and Bastion. They jerked their hands out of the corpse’s torso and lifted the skirts of their medical gowns. It was impossible to really dash in all the protection garb, so they had to affect a ridiculous sort of high-stepping prancing motion, like dressage horses, while dragging the trains of voluminous material behind them. The hoses of their cooling systems popped out of the sockets, and water jetted into the air.
“Get that door open!” Odette heard Security Chief Clovis shouting. Ahead of them, the air lock shuddered and ground open.
“You need to... hurry... the hell... up,” said Rook Thomas through gritted teeth. “I can’t... hold it much longer!” On the last word, Odette and Bastion launched themselves clumsily through the door and landed in a tangled mass of nonwoven material, Kevlar, and surgical-grade chain mail. Odette’s helmet cracked against the floor. Behind them, the door slid closed.
Odette struggled to look back, clawing her gown material out of the way. Through the window in the door, she saw roaring red flames cascade down from the ceiling. The body on the table was completely engulfed.
That’s light fire? she thought.
Meanwhile, showerheads in the ceiling of the air lock had begun drenching her and Dr. Bastion with liquid that smelled strongly of chemicals. By the time the outer door swung open and the little surgical squires peered in, Odette and Dr. Bastion were completely soaked. It took several minutes of laborious unpeeling before the two autopsists could leave and change back into their normal clothes.
By the time they presented themselves to the executives, Marie had arrived at the Rookery and was talking quietly with Clovis. Apparently, the day’s meetings had commenced and security had tightened further in light of the previous night’s attack. Rook Thomas was not scheduled to attend any meetings that day, but Graaf Ernst’s absence had been noted.
“Negotiations would be probably even more awkward if they knew about the rogue Grafters who tried to kill Rook Thomas,” remarked Clovis.
“So, not everyone knows about last night? But I called the emergency help line!” asked Odette.
“We gave them a cover story about a training exercise,” said Rook Thomas. “Only a handful of people are aware of the truth.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Marie.
“To begin with,” said Rook Thomas, “let’s establish what the situation actually is. Miss Leliefeld, what can you tell us about the charred semi-consumed corpse downstairs?”
“He’s a kit thug,” said Odette. “They took this guy and weaponized him quickly. Scars unhealed, weapons shoved in. There were painkiller sacs throughout his body preventing him from feeling any of the aches.” Although there weren’t nearly enough to cancel out my venom, she thought in satisfaction. “I would say he’d been in possession of his implants no more than a week. Still deadly, though. He could have punched through a wall, they’d layered so much cow muscle all through him.”