“David,” Nazar said, a broad smile on his face, “I’m happy to see you again; also Abdul and Adiba. I am delighted you escaped captivity, with your assistance no doubt, Detective Chief Inspector. Thank you. I’m pleased my two young friends are unharmed.” Adiba glared at Nazar. Abdul kept a firm grip on her shoulder.
A tall, nervous-looking man in John Lennon spectacles spoke. “David, d… d… do you have the virginbots?”
“Hello, professor,” David said, “Mr. Quinn has them.”
All eyes moved to Quinn’s face, then down to the plastic carrier in his right hand.
“Mr. Eudon,” Quinn said, “my friends and I have some immigration problems to resolve. I would appreciate your help.”
Nazar grinned. “Mr. Quinn, if that bag contains what I hope it does, I will help you and my two friends any way I can. But first, we must examine the goods.”
The smile stayed, and Quinn saw the steel behind Nazar’s eyes. He didn’t have much choice. Ironically, they were safer with Eudon than they would be with the authorities, and at least he didn’t want to murder people with the nanobots. He handed over the carrier. The professor’s hand shook as he placed the flask inside the glove box and closed the door.
The professor pushed his hands in the sleeves and used gloves to open the thermos. Wisps of vapor escaped the top. He pulled out a glass tube and put the flask to one side. He positioned the tube in a holder at the center of the box. One of the techs punched some keys on the computer keyboard, and the box flooded with red light.
While everyone focused on the glove box, Quinn scanned the room again; definitely only one exit, where the guards stood. All the white-coats and Nazar stared at the monitor. David stood back, lips moving in prayer, eyes squeezed shut.
Nazar spun around and glared at David. “Is this a joke? These nanobots are the same as the ones you left here. They have less than a week of life!”
Quinn checked the display, trying to understand the problem:
Target — C2H5OH (Ethanol)
Inhibitor — C2H5OH*30 % (Ethanol)
Feedstock — Bio
Catalyst — Photon
ss: mm:hh: dd:mm
Activate — 00:00:00:00:00
Terminate — 59:59:23:31:07
The data didn’t mean a damn thing to him, but Nazar was pissed.
David said, “I can reset the parameter.”
“You b… b… built a backdoor, didn’t you?”
David smiled at the professor, and he smiled back. The man obviously admired whatever David had done. The group opened a space. Before David stepped forward, he turned to face Abdul and Adiba.
“Allahu Akbar,” David said.
“Allahu Akbar,” Adiba and Abdul replied simultaneously.
Quinn studied David as he nodded to Abdul and smiled at Adiba. He recognized the expression on David’s face.
He’d seen that expression before.
As a police officer, more than once, his life had depended on recognizing that expression.
David had made a decision.
The professor stepped away from the computer keyboard, allowing David access. The technicians followed his every move.
Quinn moved behind Abdul and Adiba and put a hand on each of their shoulders. Adiba turned to say something, but Quinn shook his head and eased them toward a large conference table set against the wall, fifteen feet from the door. Quinn smiled at the security guards, who studied him but didn’t smile back.
“I’m beat,” Quinn said, loud enough for the guards to hear. He sat on the table, legs swinging. He patted a space next to him, and Abdul and Adiba joined him.
Quinn spoke in a low whisper. “Abdul, what’s going on over there?”
“David has programmed a backdoor. It’s like putting a combination lock on the computer. Only someone who knows the code can get in. David is going to pick the lock and reset the termination date on the nanobots.”
David punched a series of keys into the computer. After a few seconds, the white-coats started applauding.
Nazar turned, looking for them. He caught Quinn’s eye and smiled broadly. Then he put an arm around Keisha’s waist, pulled her to him, and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him and laid her cheek against his shoulder.
While the technicians were clapping and staring at the computer display, David opened the door to the glove box and plucked the tube of nanobots from the induction chamber.
He unscrewed the top, faced Nazar, and raised the tube as if in a toast. “Allahu Akbar,” he said.
Then.
Like a man downing a shooter at a redneck bar, David tipped his head back and slid the contents of the tube into his mouth.
He dropped like a rock, screaming and writhing, onto the floor. The professor knelt beside him. “David, what’s wrong?”
The technicians, Nazar, and Keisha looked on. It took a few seconds before the group understood what had happened. The professor jerked upright. David had stopped moving, and his head was melting like a block of butter in a hot pan. Already, half his skull was missing. Orange liquid pooled on the floor around his body as if he were bleeding out, except it wasn’t blood.
The liquid spread quickly across the floor. The white-coats began hopping, like cowboys in a western movie, dancing while a drunk shoots bullets at their feet.
The professor grabbed his left knee, screamed and stumbled sideways as if he had been tackled; in seconds, his leg was reduced to a stump. The liquid pooled at the technicians' feet. They ran for the door. One by one, they fell as their feet and legs were devoured by nanobots and turned to orange ethanol solution.
Nazar, standing furthest from the group, climbed on the computer table and pulled Keisha up after him.
“The flask. Get me the flask!” Nazar screamed at his assistant and pointed at the empty thermos flask inside the glove box affixed to the table next to theirs.
Keisha clambered across the table. The box's door faced away from her, so she lay on top, swung her arms over the front, and reached through the opening.
“Hold my feet, I can’t reach.”
Nazar grabbed her legs. She slid forward, bent at the waist over the edge of the box, and grasped the flask. He pulled her back and she held the prize high.
“The liquid contains unlocked nanobots.” Nazar pointed to the orange puddle on the floor below them where David had stood a few moments before; a glass test tube was all that remained of the young man. The liquid pooled under and around the front of Nazar’s table. The nanobots were consuming the vinyl floor tiles, spreading fast,
“Scoop some into the flask. We only need a small amount. I’ll hold your legs.” Nazar slid to the far side of the table and braced himself. Keisha, flask in hand, lay on her belly, stretching toward the liquid while Nazar anchored her feet. She touched the open mouth of the flask to the floor and scooped in liquid.
Nanobots reached the front legs of Nazar’s table. They began to disassemble the carbon compounds in the steel, and the table tilted and sank to floor. Keisha, flask in hand, slipped forward, dragging Nazar with her. He released her feet and scrambled to the rear of the table saving himself.
As she fell headfirst off the table, Keisha looked in disbelief at her mentor, who had sacrificed her life for his. She landed head-first in the pool of nanobots and emitted a chilling, high-pitched squeal, which lasted only a few seconds before her face and mouth were no longer sufficiently formed to sustain the sound.
Nazar balanced on the edge of the tipping table, but the nanobots had reached the rear legs and the table wobbled. He slid down the tabletop toward the spreading pool of deadly orange liquid and leaped at the last moment onto what was left of Keisha’s back. Then, using his loyal assistant as a stepping-stone, he jumped clear of the liquid.