An alarm blared, drowning out the calmly counting voice of the security system. I barely heard Gregory swearing. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the red lights clicking on all along the hall in front of us.
“Dammit, Danika! You triggered a full lab decon!”
“I did no such thing! Someone’s playing silly buggers with the security protocols!” She sounded frantic. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t sure what a full lab decon entailed, but I knew enough about CDC procedures to know it wouldn’t be anything good.
Gregory snarled something I couldn’t quite make out. It sounded profane, whatever it was. He let go of my hand, apparently trusting me to run on my own, and began removing his lab coat. He didn’t slow down. I stumbled a little, but kept running, aided by Dr. Kimberley’s hand on my back.
“Here!” Gregory turned, now running backward as he thrust the coat into my hands. “Danika! Give her your shoes!”
“Right!” Dr. Kimberley shoved her shoes at me. I took them without thinking about what I was doing. “If you make it out of here, get in touch with Dr. Joseph Shoji. He’ll help.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “We’re all getting out of here!”
Gregory smiled sadly. “No,” he said. “We’re not.” Then he stopped running, grabbing my arm and jerking me to a halt as he pulled the ID card from his pocket. He swiped it over the sensor pad of the nearest door, which slid immediately open.
“Override,” said Dr. Kimberley approvingly. “Nice one.”
“I thought so,” he said, and shoved me through the open door. Another of those metal shields slammed down a split second later, shutting them both from view. It was thick enough that it also cut off the sound of the alarms, leaving me in a sudden, almost shocking silence. I stared at the blank wall of steel in front of me for several precious seconds as I tried to process what had just happened.
There was a full decontamination cycle starting on the other side of that wall. And the only two people I knew were on my side were on the other side of it.
Okay, see the problem here? It’s one of scale. That’s all. It’s like math. Evil math. Take five bloggers, split them into three groups, and scatter them along the West Coast of the United States. Impose a radio silence. Start the apocalypse. Now, if Blogger A starts trying to contact Blogger B, using a secure DSL connection from Lab X, how long before Blogger A has a full-blown nervous breakdown?
Just wondering.
—From The Kwong Way of Things, the blog of Alaric Kwong, August 1, 2041. Unpublished.
RISE UP WHILE YOU CAN.
—Graffiti from inside the Florida disaster zone, picture published under Creative Commons license.
Twenty-two
This isn’t right.” Becks watched the door, pistol drawn. “There should be more security.”
“Maybe there’s something going on.” I kept most of my attention on my phone. I had a scanner running, checking for security frequencies that might give away our location. “Mahir? How’s it looking?”
“The booster should be online in a few more seconds.” He was on his back on the floor, using magnetic clasps to affix the Cat’s equipment to the bottom of a server rack. “I still feel odd about this whole thing. I think this is the first actual crime I’ve committed for you people.”
“We’ll put it on your résumé,” Becks said dryly.
“And we’re good.” Mahir pushed himself away from the server rack and stood, dusting off his still-immaculate pants. “That should work until they find it. Which will be never if that woman is half as good as she believes herself to be.”
“Let’s say she’s half as good as Buffy was, and assume that means she gets about a year.” I lowered my phone. “There’s still no security activity in this part of the building. We’re either clean to evac, or they’re setting up an ambush.”
Becks snorted. “Let me guess what you’re going to say next. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ ”
“Sounds about right,” I agreed. “Let’s get out of here.”
The light above the door turned yellow just as we started to move. “There has been a security breach,” announced a calm female voice. “Please proceed to the nearest open lab and await instructions. There are currently no confirmed contaminants. Please proceed to the nearest open lab and await instructions. Remain calm. Please proceed to the nearest open lab…”
The three of us turned to look at each other.
“Okay,” I asked. “Who touched the bad button?”
The door slid open. We stopped looking at each other in favor of looking at it.
“Is that good, bad, or horrible?” asked Mahir.