Genesis - Keith R. A. DeCandido [22]
"Completely sure." Lisa had already had this conversation with Matt a dozen times and herself about a million times. And in the end, it always came down to the same thing.
She thought about Fadwa.
After that, it was easy.
Six
THE ONLY THING THE RED QUEEN'S SECURITY cameras picked up was the human figure in the Hazmat suit.
Somehow, someone had found a way to get into the suit without the ubiquitous cameras recording the action.
However, the Red Queen, despite her artificial intelligence, was still at heart a literal-minded machine. The person in the Hazmat suit entered the proper security codes to get through the titanium-reinforced door to the temperature-regulated room that housed the T-virus. Therefore, the computer did not question the identity of the individual, even though the suit's reflective faceplate sufficiently hid the person's identity from the cameras.
The first thing the figure did was walk over to one of the utility closets and remove a hypo-gun and a metal case. While not as well reinforced as the door—that was impossible to achieve without sacrificing portability—the case was impenetrable by most standards when sealed. As for the gun, it fit neatly into one of the case's slots. All the other slots were intended to house small cylindrical tubes.
The figure walked over to the far wall. That wall included a window of PlastiGlas, a stronger version of Plexiglas that Umbrella had patented the year before. Under the window sat a horizontal slot, which the figure opened by activating a control. It slid downward, allowing the case to be placed into the small chamber on the other side of the window and slot.
Smoky condensation puffed out through the slot, as the temperature inside the chamber was quite low, and only the Hazmat suit kept the figure from feeling the overwhelming cold that issued forth.
The slot closed once the case was ensconced within. The activating of several other controls brought about two more actions: two waldoes unfurled from sides of the PlastiGlas window and the bottom of the chamber slid open to reveal fourteen vials. The latter action was only possible when the slot below the window was shut.
Manipulating the waldoes, the figure systematically placed each of the vials into the slots. Each vial contained corkscrew-shaped tubes that looked like a cross between a DNA double helix and a Silly Straw. Half were filled with a deep blue liquid, the other half with a liquid in a kind of sick green.
The T-virus and the anti-virus.
Worth millions to Pharmaceuticals as the basis of a revolutionary product that would allow vain middle-aged people to look more like vain younger people.
Worth billions on the open market in its raw form as a biological weapon.
Behind the reflective faceplate, the figure smiled. This was a weapon of mass destruction beyond any world leader's wildest dreams—or nightmares.
Once all fourteen vials were in place, the case shut automatically, and sealed itself. Four circular dials on the four corners of the case lid rotated ninety degrees, indicating that the case was sealed tighter than a proverbial drum. Only someone with the key code could open it now.
With the tray cleared of the vials and the case sealed, the computer—literal-minded as ever—would allow the slot to open once again. When it did, the figure grabbed the case and brought it out of the temperature-controlled room and into the adjacent laboratory.
Like all the office spaces in the Hive, the lab was utilitarian, favoring cold metal and hard plastics, not only in the furnishings, but everything from the moulding to the computer desktops. It had no warmth to it at all. Like a tomb.
Soon enough, it would be a tomb in reality as well as imagery.
The figure removed the Hazmat suit, put on a pair of rubber gloves, and entered the keycode. The case obligingly opened, an action that served two functions: to verify that the keycode worked and to allow the figure access to one of the vials containing the blue liquid.
Pulling out the vial with a protected hand, the figure sealed the