Andress looks down briefly, subtly upset. Rennin looks at her closely and can almost smell her fear. If she thinks she’s going to die here then things are really bad. “Moving on. The people who are immune have been moved here to Whitechapel, are they to be moved outside the city?”
“If it’s necessary.”
“I’m just questioning the logic of keeping the immunized in the city and letting out the people who are uninfected by chance,” says Andress.
“The old township in the Alpine Shire south of here is at full capacity, currently. We were a little overconfident in our assessment of holding off the contaminant attacks, I admit, but Raddocks Horizon is the best place in the country to develop real treatment in the fastest possible time. This infection needs to be dealt with not hidden from.”
“Are they test subjects for global immunization?”
Even Rennin’s face drops at that. He glances to Caufmann, who is staring at the screen deadpan. Something horrible occurs to him. The immune people would make valuable medical assets and using their immune tissue they could create viable working antigens. In a way, it would be like harvesting. A hundred to save a million. He shakes his head. It’s not done like that. Is it? Carla fits into that category, and he handed her over at Gateway.
On screen, Raddocks shakes his head. “Of course not.”
“Is there anything we can tell the people who aren’t infected that are trapped in areas designated as contaminated zones?”
Raddocks breaks eye contact for the first time since the interview began. “Stay calm.”
For a moment Andress looks at him with a mildly incredulous expression but it’s clear he’s not going to speak again. “Lord mayor, thank you.”
She turns to face the camera. “Keep this channel tuned because it will be issuing future emergency broadcasts throughout this crisis. I’m Ellie Andress.”
The screen fades to a blue emergency display with the Godyssey logo in the background and scrolling text along the bottom giving statistics of the danger zones along with current citizen casualties. The casualty list climbs almost by the moment.
Rennin wipes his mouth with the back of his glove and walks towards the edge of the playing field where the toilets are located. He’s about fifty metres away when he sees the survivor of Clone Unit enter. Rennin sighs as he remembers seeing the sole survivor walking in a daze when gunship Genome touched down outside the stadium, moments before Rennin attempted desertion. He’s still thinking of that image when he enters the toilet just in time for a gunshot to give him the fright of his life.
Something wet hits his face. He’s so surprised he doesn’t focus immediately, he backs up in some impersonation of a stagger until he hits the wall behind him. His gun is drawn. His eyes soon focus enough to see the dead trooper on the floor.
Suicide.
From Rennin’s viewpoint it’s all too surreal. White tiles, flickering emergency lights, a dead soldier and all too red blood all over the place. It is like something out of a nightmare. Rennin is still holding his gun on the downed soldier when Mia and Drake storm in.
Mia glances at Rennin’s gun, relieved to note it’s not smoking. She looks to the rifle next to the dead soldier, evaluating. Clearly that amount of damage to the head could only be caused by a rifle shot. Mia’s attention is drawn to Rennin’s handgun as he’s holstering it. Something inside her hollows out as she sees a symbol on the handle in what seems like slow motion. Mia’s eyes are glued to the etching of a passion-nail piercing a heart on the grip, the Logan family crest. It’s Dan Logan’s gun. In Rennin’s hand.
She watches him walk towards the body of the Clone Unit soldier, stooping to investigate. She draws her gun, training it on him without hesitation. Drake looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing?”
“I’m looking at a dead man,” she grinds out through gritted teeth.
Rennin’s back is to them, but he can see her vague silhouette in the glossy tile work in front of him. He can read her body language intuitively. He smiles, lightly shaking his head when he realises that he drew Logan’s gun instead of Killjoy by accident. “Am I under arrest?” he asks, standing and facing them.
“What’s going on?” asks Drake.
“Drake, get your gun on him, he murdered Logan, Gilles and Childes.”
Drake looks to Rennin, his face riddled with confusion; the watchman isn’t sure if his fragile mind will stand the strain. Drake draws his gun but there’s no conviction in his aim. “How do you know?”
“He’s got Dan’s sidearm, it was the only thing not found. ”
Drake is stammering with disbelief. “No, n-no. That was Prototype. You saw Dan’s arm, the bones were completely crushed.”
Mia’s eyes are fixed on the former watchman. “You’ve got a mechanical arm don’t you, Farrow?”
Rennin nods. “I killed them. I broke Logan’s arm and threw him out the window. Then I went downstairs and killed the other two while they were coming up.”
Mia bares her teeth. “You son of a bitch.”
“Easy, Mia,” says Drake looking at Rennin. “Why did you do it?”
Rennin’s eyes are like orbs of ice, and with his andronic eye glowing faintly it paints an imposing image before them. He isn’t sure how to say it. It is simple really, they were going to kill his wife. Well, at the time she was his girlfriend, but that just doesn’t have the right impact in his mind. It won’t change the situation. Though if he admits who he was there protecting it will implicate her somehow. That, he will not accept. He decides to kill them. Maybe not Drake, though. Play it by ear.
With the flick of his wrist an EMP flashbang pops on his ammo belt. Drake and Mia avert their gaze as the flash blinds them, taking the lights out. Eyes shut or not, Rennin momentarily staggers at the sound. He still has the element of surprise considering he can still see; they are temporarily both deaf and blind. He makes a dash to the side, just as they both open fire on his previous position. He sees an opening between them, and runs for the door to the playing field but Mia takes a pot shot in the direction of his footsteps. His arm explodes in fiery splinters of pain as he is spun by the bullet to come crashing down on the floor.
Everybody stops.
There is total silence, for the moment. The room seems pitch black until their eyes adjust. The only illumination since the flashbang has been from their shooting. All of them shuffle around trying to change position but in the confusion Rennin is sure Mia and Drake mustn’t be sure which sounds are him, or each other.
Mia lets off another shot, chancing to see Rennin’s position in the barrel flash. She hopes that Drake can get a shot into him but in the brief glimmer of light from the gun she sees Rennin is already right at her, knife in hand, eyes blazing. She moves the gun towards him in a futile effort only to feel his hand grip hers so hard that it could have been cast iron. She feels Drej’s knife against her neck beginning to slice as a pair of bright red eyes shine behind him. The cutting stops abruptly.
The temporary power disruption from the grenade ends, and the lights flicker back on. Drake has his gun trained on empty air and is shaking like a leaf. Mia grips the cut on the side of her throat. One more second, and it would have been an ear-to-ear grin. The timely arrival of Arca Drej has saved her life.
The HolinMech has Rennin incapacitated on the floor by kneeling on his chest with a forearm across his throat. Rennin isn’t looking at anyone and appears to be resigned to capture.