Amanda Morgan glanced at the skeleton, mounted exhibit-style on top of a sturdy platform. Indeed, it looked a little like a rhinoceros. A rhinoceros, sans horn, to be specific.
But the skeleton, nine feet end-to-end and possessing a shoulder height of six feet, was actually that of a Diprotodon. The largest marsupial of all time, the Diprotodon was just one of many strange megafauna that had once roamed Australia. Related to the modern koala and wombat, it had died out approximately 40,000 years ago during a still-unexplained mass extinction of Australian megafauna.
She moved on, wincing as stabbing pain erupted from her side. Clutching her waist, she squeezed the pain, forcing it to subside a bit.
She walked past numerous exhibits, all devoted to skeletons of long-extinct megafauna. Miracinonyx inexpectatus, or the American cheetah, which had sported retractable claws and outran cougars. Canis dirus, also known as the dire wolf, a fearsome predator with powerful jaws and pack-hunting skills. Megalania prisca, or Megalania, the largest terrestrial lizard known to mankind. And many others. It was a fine collection, rivaling that of the world’s best-known museums.
She passed a pair of technicians who were cleaning blood and gore from the floor, utterly oblivious to the partial ten-foot tall skeleton of Gigantopithecus blacki—the only one known in existence — towering behind them.
She reached the central platform and climbed the stairs, pausing for a short respite at the halfway point. She found Bonnie Codd and Zlata Issova sitting in swivel chairs and fixated on computer screens. “What have you got for me?” she asked.
“We’re making progress,” Codd replied. “It shouldn’t be—”
Yells and shouts for help rang out from the entranceway. Swiveling her head, Morgan saw a trio of men limping across the slip-resistant vinyl floor. Covered in soil and uprooted foliage, the men looked in desperate need of baths. “What happened to them?” she asked.
Codd didn’t look up. “Who?”
“Page, Rice, and Sherman.”
Codd lifted her gaze and studied the men. “I sent them to check on 48A,” she said, a hint of concern in her voice. “I hope they didn’t run into trouble.”
“Okay, I’m going to talk to them. Keep me—”
“Amanda!” Bernier raced onto the platform. Lungs heaving, he bent down, hands on knees. “The… the incubators…”
Morgan swiveled to face him. She saw the redness in his cheeks, the urgency in his eyes. “What about them?”
“They’re…” He gasped. “They’re undergoing expulsion.”
Unimaginable horror filled Morgan’s heart. Turning in a slow circle, she spied eight silken ectogenetic incubators, part of Hatcher’s 2-Gen initiative. All of them trembled, quivered, and vibrated with quiet force. Two or three of them showed signs of cracking.
A dizzy spell assaulted Morgan’s brain, engulfing it in silken threads of haziness. A full expulsion sequence? How was that even possible?
Morgan snapped out of her haze. Her brain began to work, to plan. Hatcher had protocols for any number of lab-related emergencies, everything from a chemical spill to a full-on incubator failure. But a mass expulsion? Until that very minute, it had been an unthinkable prospect.
Unfortunately, it was now a reality.
She had to figure this out. Otherwise, she’d be forced to evacuate all personnel from the Lab and security checkpoint. Codd and Issova would have to cease work on the communications. All of her plans to stop the Foundation would come to a screeching halt.
Her eyes traced the array of computers and mechanical devices scattered about the platform. The trick to handling the situation, she decided, was to build upon existing protocols. “Bonnie, Zlata,” she said. “We’ve got a full expulsion sequence underway.”
Codd froze, the tips of her fingers hardening just above her keyboard. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yes.”
Codd and Issova stood up. Moving as if in one body, they turned in tight circles, taking in the entire facility.
“They’re not even fully cooked yet,” Morgan said in a voice full of equal parts awe and terror. “This could be 1-Gen all over again.”
Issova and Codd gave her wide-eyed looks. They hadn’t been in the Lab during the 1-Gen debacle. But she’d told them all about it while recruiting them to her cause.
“That bad?” Issova asked.
“Maybe worse.” Morgan’s heart palpitated. “Speaking of 1-Gen, can you see if we have access to the incubators in Sector 48A?”
Issova hurried to a large monitor. For a few seconds, she pounded on the keyboard. “Okay, the system’s working fine.” She paused to check the screen. “I can’t access the wireless network. But it looks like a general expulsion frequency was sent out to all incubators within twenty miles of this station.”
“Oh, wow,” Codd whispered. “We’re dead. We’re so dead.”
Morgan exhaled a long breath. If Issova was right, then every single incubator in 48A had been activated at the same time. And in an unprotected setting, with nothing to quell the enormous energy outburst. What would that look like? Sound like? Feel like? She could scarcely imagine it.
Morgan steeled her gaze. “Zlata, how long will it take to deploy the isolation chambers?”
Issova gawked at her.
“How long?” Morgan repeated.
Issova’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Five or six minutes apiece from the looks of it.”
“Can you deploy them en mass?”
“Probably. But I’d need to figure it out. If I had an hour—”
“You don’t.” Morgan scanned the incubators, taking note of their movement and relative cracking. “Okay, we’ll do one at a time. Start with the Arctodus simus. It’s the closest to expulsion.”
While Issova worked the keyboard, Morgan turned to Codd. “Can you initiate a general shutdown of the expulsion sequence?”
Codd’s face twisted with doubt. “These programs are brand new to me. And even if I figure them out, it could be too late to stop the expulsions.”
“Just try.”
Codd flung herself into the swivel chair and zoomed across the platform to a mid-sized monitor. Quickly, she got to work, pecking keys with fierce intensity.
Morgan walked quickly to Bernier, who was still trying to catch his breath. Looking toward the entranceway, she saw a group of people gathered around Page, Rice, and Sherman, offering assistance to the beleaguered men.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she lifted her voice to a shout. “Attention, everyone.” She paused as all eyes shifted to her. “The ectogenetic incubators are undergoing a simultaneous expulsion. We are doing everything in our power to stop it, or at least contain it. But to be on the safe side, I need all of you to evacuate this floor in an orderly manner.”
Scientists, technicians, and rangers exchanged frightened looks. Then they hurried through the entranceway, with Bernier hot on their heels. Seconds later, rubber thudded against metal as they raced up the waiting ladder.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Issova slammed her fists against the table, sending her monitor into a brief wobbling spell.
What now? Morgan thought as she twisted toward the woman.
“The deployment sequence won’t activate,” Issova said.
Morgan winced. “Then try another one.”
“You don’t understand. I tried the Arctodus simus, the Panthera onca augusta, the Mammut americanum… none of them work.”