“I don’t want to seem naive,” the boy said. “But I don’t see the big fuss. It might take a while, but you’ll figure it out. It’s a mouse.”
Olly looked awkwardly at him.
“This sample isn’t from the mouse. It’s from that girl called May-Rose. We took it after the mouse bit her.”
“This is impossible. You can’t alter someone’s DNA like that. Not through a bite. Not even if it transferred blood!”
“That’s what we thought.” Olly put his head in both hands. “But it happened.”
Cruickshank stared at the screen, transfixed by the unfamiliar spirals, studded with unknown combinations of genetic material.
“What’s actually happened to May Rose?”
“We’re not sure.” Olly pursed his lips. “She’s in isolation now, under constant guard.”
“Then instead of fiddling around with your computer simulations wouldn’t it be best to talk to her?”
“We tried.” Olly said slowly. “Sent in four technicians to interview her. They’re all dead.”
Cruickshank gave a start. The blonde woman at the next computer stopped typing, a look of alarm spreading across her face.
“Olly,” she whispered urgently. “He’s a kid.”
“So was May-Rose!”
“What do you mean was?” Cruickshank said quietly. The rest of the assistants had stopped working and were watching the exchange, faces tense and grey.
“Just leave it!” the blonde woman hissed.
“What do you think this boy is doing down here?” The fat technician’s face had gone bright red. Cruickshank couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment. “You think they asked him here for his expertise, Goddammit?” He slammed his fist onto the computer keyboard. The blond closed her eyes. The others looked quickly away.
“I’ll make that tea,” Cruickshank said, a sinking feeling opening in the pit of his stomach.
“Don’t have time for that, son. Lieutenant Dunwoody walked over and laid a calming hand on Olly’s shoulder.
“We’re going to go see May-Rose.”
-PART 3-
17.00 hours – 18.00 hours
I spent thirty-three years and four months in active military service… And during that period I spent most of my time being a high-class muscle man for big business.
Meme: An element of culture or system of behaviour that may be considered to be passed from an individual to another by non-genetic means
17.00
The children had set up a circle of chairs in the dormitory. Cruickshank and May-Rose were both missing, presumed to be in Bunker 10. The rest leaned close together and kept their voices low.
“I say we need a plan, man.” Diddy Dave had obviously been thinking along the same lines as Jimmy. “If the army get a scooby that we’ve got the secret of faster than light travel, they’ll nick it like a shot, know?”
“What do you mean we?” Simon gave Dave a venomous look. “I discovered it, remember?”
“Aye, ok. Keep yir kecks on, wee man.”
“Let’s all agree on one thing right away,” said Jimmy Hicks. “Whatever happens, Simon gets the credit for this.”
The other children nodded.
“The simplest thing to do is to keep quiet for the moment.” The whiteboard had been wiped clean and Simon’s workings were stored away in inoffensive file on his computer. “And we need to hide a hard copy of the formula somewhere, so that we can use it as security.”
“Could we email it to someone?”
“Like who? Anyway you can be sure the military monitors all communications to the outside.” Jimmy beckoned them even closer. “But there’s an old dried up well in the forest, not far from the back gate. It’s deep. When Leslie and I sneak out tonight we should take a copy of the formula in a sealed bag. Drop it in there on the way out.”
Simon was silent.
“What?”
The boy looked at the ground. “I was thinking that there’s nothing to stop you from keeping the formula and not coming back.” He kept his eyes down, but his voice was trembling with emotion. “Take all the credit.”
“Dinnae take a flaky, wee man.” Dave cut in. “Hicksy wouldnae dae that.”
“Well, why can’t we all go?” Simon was insistent. “What if Cruikshank tells top brass about the equation?”
“Why would he?” Jimmy replied brusquely. “He’s selfish but he’s not stupid. The army would treat him as a security risk and lock him up.” He sat down beside his friend, his voice softening.
“We need to know if this escape route will work, Simon. If Leslie and I get caught, we can tell them the truth◦– that we wanted to go on a date.”
You don’t really think they’d believe you,” Simon insisted.
“No. But they can’t prove otherwise.” Leslie shot back. “On the other hand, if everyone gets caught sneaking out, we’ll be interrogated until someone breaks. You know that. Besides, we can’t leave without Cruikshank and May-Rose.”
Jimmy looked into the boy’s eyes.
“Simon. We’re your family. Trust us.”
“Aye, ye wee bam. You’re like a sister tae me.”
Simon took a deep breath.
“All right then. Let’s stop wasting time and put this escape plan into operation.”
17.10
Sherman sat down for the first time with his new team. Each had a folder open in front of them, filled with maps and specifications. The Colonel stood at the head of the table, hands on his hips.
“I have a big problem,” he said matter of factly. “And it needs sorted right now.”
That got their attention.
“I’m sending you into a virtual combat simulation, but this one is different from any that has been created before.” He pursed his lips, choosing his words carefully. “You’re going to be immersed in it for hours and it will be more real than anything you’ve ever experienced. Sherman here is used to odd simulations and he’ll be leading you.”
“What’s our brief?” Darren asked. He had a high quivery voice that matched his meek demeanour.
“Break into a hostile military base and penetrate its lowest level.”
“Typical game scenario, just in reverse,” Darren said approvingly, looking at his notes. “Difficult though. There are watchtowers back and front and you have to get past a perimeter fence and mounted lasers just to get near the place. The lasers are tiny but they’ve got massive firepower and an enormous range, which makes them almost impossible to take out.”
“Is there a blind spot where we can cut through the fences?”
“No need.” The Colonel said curtly. “The lasers will be off, I’ll give you the code for the gate and the guards will be elsewhere.”
Nulce gave a small snort.
“You have a problem Mr Nulce?”
“That’s not much of a challenge.” Nulce had an American accent, but Sherman couldn’t place it.
“I’m not interested in the more mundane parts of the simulation,” the Colonel continued. “The problem we have is with its integral workings.”
“Sir.” Darren looked puzzled. “Exactly what is wrong?”
“It’s radically different from any designed before.” The Colonel said. “In fact we went further than we could ever have dreamed.” He put his hands together and looked at his team over the tops of his fingers.