“You mean release the virus?” Sheila said. “Like open the door and throw it out.”
“No, we’re not yet ready for clinical fieldwork,” Harlan said with a twinkle in his eye. “I was thinking about the next stage being more close to home. I was thinking about me being the experimental subject.”
“Now wait... ” Sheila protested.
Harlan held up his hand. “There’s a long history of famous medical people using themselves as the proverbial guinea pigs,” he said. “This is a perfect opportunity to follow suit. I’ve been infected, and even though it has been a number of days, I’ve kept the infestation to a minimum by the monoclonal antibody. It’s now time for me to rid myself of the virus altogether. So rather than thinking of myself as a sacrificial lamb, I think of myself as a beneficiary of our collective wit.”
“How do you propose to do this?” Sheila asked. It was one thing to experiment with mice, quite another with a fellow human being.
“Come on,” Harlan said. He grabbed one of the tissue cultures inoculated with the artificial rhinovirus and headed for the sick bay. “We’ll do this the same way we did it with the mice. The difference is that you’ll lock me into one of the containment rooms.”
“Maybe we should use another animal first,” Sheila said.
“Nonsense,” Harlan said. “It’s not as if we have the luxury of a lot of time. Remember that Gateway situation.”
Everyone trooped after Harlan, who was obviously intent on using himself as an experimental subject. Sheila tried to talk him out of it all the way to the containment room. Harlan was not to be deterred.
“Just promise me you’ll lock the door,” Harlan said. “If something really weird were to happen, I don’t want to jeopardize all of you.”
“What if you need medical attention?” Sheila said. “Like, God forbid, CPR.”
“That’s a chance I have to take,” Harlan said fatalistically. “Now get, so I can catch my cold in peace.”
Sheila hesitated for a moment while trying to think of some other way to talk Harlan out of what she thought was a premature folly. Finally she stepped back through the air lock hatch and dogged it closed. She looked through the glass as Harlan gave her a thumbs-up sign.
Admiring Harlan’s courage Sheila returned the gesture.
“What’s he doing?” Pitt asked from the hallway. The air lock was only big enough for one person.
“He’s taking the stopper out of the tissue culture flask,” Sheila said.
“I’m going back to the computer,” Jonathan said. The tension was making him feel uncomfortable.
Pitt stepped into the neighboring air lock and looked through the porthole at Cassy. She was still sleeping peacefully.
Pitt returned to the air lock occupied by Sheila. “Anything happening?”
“Not yet,” Sheila said. “He’s just lying down making faces at me. He’s acting like he’s twelve years old.”
Pitt wondered how he’d behave if the situation were reversed, and he was the one in the room. He thought he’d be terrified and unable to joke around like Harlan.
“Wait a second!” Vince said excitedly. “Turn around so I can see where we just passed over.”
The pilot banked the copter to the left in a wide circle.
Vince snapped the binoculars to his eyes. The terrain below looked as featureless as it had looked for the previous hour. It had turned out to be extraordinarily difficult to follow the tire tracks from the air, and they’d taken many wrong turns.
“There’s something down there,” Vince said.
“What is it?” Beau growled. His mood had darkened. What he’d thought was going to be a simple matter of plucking Cassy out of the desert, was turning into a fiasco.
“I can’t tell,” Vince said. “But it is worth taking a look at. I’d recommend we go down.”
“Land!” Beau snarled.
The helicopter settled down in the middle of its own sandstorm. It was worse than earlier, without the tarmac. As the air cleared everyone immediately saw what had attracted Vince’s attention. It was a van with a camouflage cover partially blown off by the wind generated by the rotor blades.
“Finally something positive,” Beau snapped as he alighted from the helicopter. He strode over to the van. Grasping the tarp he ripped it off. He opened the front passenger-side door.
“She was in here,” he said. He looked in the back of the van, then turned to survey the area.
“Beau, there’s another communication from the institute,” the pilot called out. He’d remained next to the helicopter. “They want you to know that they’d received word that the Arrival is expected in five Earth hours from now. And they want to remind you that the Gateway is not ready. What should I tell them?”
Beau gripped his head with his long fingers and pressed his temples in an attempt to relieve his tension. He breathed out slowly. Ignoring the pilot he yelled to Vince that Cassy was nearby. “I can sense it,” Beau added. “But it is strangely weak.”
Vince and Robert had wandered away from the van in ever widening circles. Suddenly Vince had stopped and bent down. Straightening up he called for Beau to come over.
Beau joined the two men.
Vince pointed to the ground. “It’s a camouflaged hatch,” he said. “It’s locked from within.”
Beau’s fingers snaked under the edge. Progressively he applied an upward force until the hatch snapped up into the air. Vince and Beau leaned over and peered down at the lighted corridor below. Then their eyes met.
“She’s down there,” Beau said.
“I know,” Vince said.
“Holy shit!” Jonathan cried. His eyes bulged from their sockets. Then he screamed at the top of his lungs: “Pitt, Sheila, somebody, get over here!”
Pitt slammed down a syringe of antibody he’d been preparing for Cassy and dashed out of the sick bay into the hall en route to the lab where Jonathan was. Pitt had no idea what had happened but there’d been desperation in Jonathan’s voice. Pitt heard Sheila running behind him.
They found Jonathan sitting at the computer. His eyes were glued to the monitor, and his face was pale as an ivory cue ball.
“What’s the matter?” Pitt demanded as he rushed up to Jonathan.
Jonathan was momentarily tongue-tied. All he could do was motion toward the computer screen. Pitt looked at it and his hand reflexly slapped across his open mouth.
“What is it?” Sheila urged as she arrived at Pitt’s side.
“It’s a freak!” Jonathan managed.
Sheila sucked in a breath of air when she caught sight of what was on the screen.
“It’s Beau!” Pitt said with horror. “Cassy said he’d been mutating, but I had no idea... ”
“Where is he?” Sheila asked, forcing herself to be practical despite Beau’s grotesque appearance.
“It was an alarm that drew my attention,” Jonathan said. “Then the computer automatically activated the appropriate minicam.”
“I want to know where he is,” Sheila repeated frantically.
Jonathan fumbled with the keyboard and managed to bring up a schematic of the facility. A red arrow was blinking at one of the emergency/exhaust vents.
“I think that’s the one where we entered,” Pitt said.
“I think you’re right,” Sheila said. “What does the alarm mean, Jonathan?”
“It says ‘hatch cover unsealed,’” Jonathan said. “I guess that means they’ve got the hatch open.”
“Good God!” Sheila said. “They’ll be coming in.”
“What should we do?” Pitt asked.
Sheila ran an anxious hand through her unfettered blond hair; her green eyes darted erratically around the room. She felt like a cornered deer.
“Pitt, go see if you can lock the door to the air lock,” she sputtered. “That might delay them for a time.”