‘Our global population is impossible to maintain in the face of a world beset by a growing specter of so-called “peak” phenomena, the point at which consumption totally overwhelms resources. We have peak oil, peak water, peak phosphorus, peak grain and peak fish already threatening civilization at large. I say to you all now, to the watching media and the people who will see this on the news, not as the Director of Operations at USAMRIID but as a husband, a father and a human being: for all of our sakes we must reduce our numbers in order to conserve the very resources upon which we depend, before our success as a society becomes our downfall as a species.’
Donald Wolfe, resplendent in his tuxedo and neatly parted hair, replaced the microphone on the lectern and stepped politely off the stage as wave after wave of applause followed him. The diners were all on their feet and clapping far harder than was necessary, as though each and every clap accounted for the millions of dollars that had flowed into their accounts over the decades. Voices accompanied the slaps on his back as he weaved between the tables.
‘About goddamn time.’
‘Took the words right out of my mouth, Donald.’
‘Good work, Wolfe, you’ll save our lives with that.’
Wolfe worked his way through the tables, to where one of the discreet men he had been watching stood to greet him and gestured toward the exit.
‘We need to talk, Donald,’ the man said. ‘Please, this way.’
26
Darkness. Disorientation. Confusion.
Tyler Willis was lying on something that felt hard and cold. His hands and feet tingled uncomfortably where thick leather straps had cut off the circulation, fastening him down so firmly that he could not move an inch. He could hear movement, the opening and closing of a door and a strange rasping sound, but his vision was obscured by a black cloth covering his head.
The cloth was whipped aside, bright light stinging his eyes. Willis blinked and saw that he was lying on his back on a mortuary slab. Above him, Jeb Oppenheimer looked down into his eyes. The old man’s breath wheezed softly, carrying with it the mingled vapors of cigar smoke and peppermint.
‘Welcome,’ Oppenheimer said.
‘Where am I?’ Willis asked.
‘Somewhere entirely secure,’ Oppenheimer replied. ‘Trust me, Tyler, it’s just you, me and our observer.’
The old man gestured to one side with a nod, and Willis turned his head to see a middle-aged woman handcuffed to a table a couple of yards away.
‘Tyler Willis,’ he said, ‘I’d like you to meet Lillian Cruz.’
‘What the hell is this?’ Willis said.
The old man tossed the black cloth down across Willis’s legs, and he felt it touch his bare skin. He strained to look down and saw that he was entirely naked. Oppenheimer reached out, and removed Willis’s spectacles, slipping them into his pocket before studying him with mild interest.
‘The human body is a remarkable feat of nature,’ he said. ‘The result of eight million years of evolution. It’s strange, don’t you think, that our scientists spend years researching the origins of life on our planet when we carry the answers within our own cells? Bacteria were some of the first forms of life to emerge on Earth, but they did not make way for more advanced forms of life. Instead they joined us, are a part of the fabric of our existence.’ He leaned toward Willis. ‘Did you know, Tyler, that there are more bacteria living inside you than there are cells that make up your body?’
‘Let me go,’ Willis said.
Oppenheimer smiled as though pitying him.
‘I’d love to, Tyler, I really would. But alas, despite your prodigious talents, if I leave you to continue on your path the whole population of our planet will pay the price.’
Willis swallowed thickly, shaking his head.
‘You can’t keep it for yourself. Sooner or later it will be found by others, no matter what you do to me or to anyone else.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Lillian Cruz demanded.
Oppenheimer smiled but ignored her, tutting to himself and shaking his head as he reached out to an unseen tray nearby and pulled on a pair of thin surgical gloves. Willis felt his bowels convulse with fear.
‘The unworthy, unwashed masses can only learn of what we’ve strived to achieve, Tyler, if they are alive to do so. Soon they will not be. Those of us who remain will not care, because we will be the sole remaining tenants of this wonderful world of ours.’
Willis felt his entire body begin to tremble uncontrollably as Oppenheimer lifted from the unseen tray a brand new surgical scalpel, gently sliding the glinting blade from its plastic sheath and examining the tip intently.
‘Hey!’ Lillian shouted.
‘One of the sharpest tools of the modern surgeon,’ Oppenheimer murmured to himself. ‘Of course, it’s been some time since I dissected a human cadaver, and they were so dull, so lifeless. Most had been in storage for weeks or months, pale, somehow false. So much more interesting to perform the procedure while the subject is still… vibrant.’
He looked down, and Willis felt his bowels loosen as his thighs trembled and his ankles rattled loudly against the mortuary slab.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Willis said in short, sharp jerks.
‘Of course I don’t,’ Oppenheimer agreed. ‘But I want answers, and I want Lillian here to know that there is nothing I will not do to achieve my aims and that she would be sensible to comply with my demands. So, tell me, where did Hiram Conley contract his infection and how can I get there?’
‘I don’t know,’ Willis said, hot tears running freely down his cheeks. ‘He came to me with the samples, but wouldn’t say where he’d gotten them.’
Oppenheimer looked down at Willis for a long moment and then wagged a crooked finger at him.
‘Now that’s not helping either of us, is it, Tyler? One more time: where did Hiram Conley obtain his infection?’
Lillian strained against her handcuffs.
‘Let him go, for God’s sake!’
Willis sucked in a deep breath.
‘He didn’t tell me anything! For God’s sake, I swear it’s the truth. If I knew I would tell you!’
Oppenheimer leaned over Willis’s chest and rested the blade on his sternum. Willis felt a tiny prick of pain against his skin.
‘Well, Tyler, we’ll soon find out.’
The pain suddenly spread like fire as Willis felt the blade plunge hilt-deep into his flesh. Oppenheimer drew it down toward the navel in a searing line of agony, thick blood spilling across Willis’s dark skin as the sound of his own screams filled the room. The terrible pain reached his groin and then changed as the blade was pulled from his flesh with a sucking sound that sent a bolt of nausea churning through his stomach. He felt his blood trickling warmly down his flanks as Oppenheimer’s wrinkled features looked down at him as though studying a dissected insect.
‘Did that pinch?’ Oppenheimer asked.
‘I’ll do what you want!’ Lillian shouted, yanking on the handcuffs as she tried to reach Oppenheimer. ‘Just let him alone!’
Willis, his eyes blurred with tears of pain and helplessness, spat his answer in a frothing dribble.
‘Go to hell, you evil bastard!’
Irritation sparked across Oppenheimer’s face as he turned and jabbed the scalpel toward Willis’s groin. The scientist was sucking in air to scream again when a soft digital beep echoed through the room. Oppenheimer turned, looking at a flashing light on the wall as a female voice spoke through an intercom.