“More to the point, what if they were left there to find? And like the Trojans we may have brought the enemy within our walls.”
Caufmann shakes his head, “Ludicrous. No one leaves engineering this sophisticated behind to take a chance like that.”
“This fascination of yours may well be the death of you.”
“I’m not that lucky.”
Rennin pulls himself off the floor, unsure of how long he’s been unconscious. It can’t have been extensive, since no one has found him. He coughs, and a splatter of blood hits the floor in front of him.
That’s not good.
Indigo Reign was the last thing that knocked him this hard, but the pain here and now is nowhere near as intense. Unfortunately, the energy drain it causes is incredible. He can work through a bad flu with a few painkillers and an Irish coffee but this is different, despite the usual body aches of a virus. He also has the nausea, the weakness, all the typical symptoms of flu but the symptoms are amplified a great deal more. This is something far from normal.
Exiting the bathroom, Rennin closes the door, and uses his andronic right hand to break the door latch. His sputum may be contagious, definitely for the best that no one comes in contact with it. Though looking around Wanker isn’t in the tower. Rennin wonders if he’s sick too.
He gets on his personal communicator, dialling Caufmann’s link number. When the doctor answers Rennin lists his symptoms. Caufmann’s reaction is almost undetectable. Never a good thing.
Minutes later, Rennin is slumped in a seat in Caufmann’s office, his head resting in his hands, while the doctor examines a vial of his blood. Behind his desk, seated in his throne-like chair, Caufmann reminds Rennin more of a school principal than a scientist.
Caufmann’s face in unreadable. Another very bad sign. “I have some bad news, Ren,” he says.
“Bubonic Plague?”
Caufmann doesn’t miss a beat, “Worse.”
Rennin suppresses the urge to panic. His body has never let him down without outside interference. He can’t find any way to respond.
Caufmann steps around to the other side of his desk with slow precise steps, stopping directly in front of Rennin. When he makes eye contact he speaks in a soft voice.
“You’ve suffered contamination from a mutagenic pathogen. It’s gotten into your blood and will soon build up bacteria in your spinal column. It will latch onto the nerves and grow into tendrils that clone your central nervous system, developing into a parasitic life form.
“From there it will grow new veins within your veins and spread to your brain stem, but by that time you, as we know you, will be dead. Once the disease is that far advanced, you’ll be a walking hungry puppet, a host for the thing you’ll eventually grow into.”
Rennin feels his head swim but it’s not the sickness this time. “What-um, what thing?”
“Not to be melodramatic; a monster.”
For Caufmann to use that particular word after all the horrible things Rennin’s heard he’s done is nothing short of catastrophic. “Did you build it?” Rennin asks feeling too overwhelmed, almost like the time he lost his virginity, complete with all the terror that brought.
Caufmann’s face remains carved of stone, with a coldness that would freeze lava. “No. It’s old. Very old.”
“Where did it come from?”
Caufmann’s face turns genuinely reminiscent, “A world far off, from outside the solar system. Completely artificial,” his eyes start to glow brighter even though they glaze over as he stares off into a daydream. “I cannot remember exactly where anymore. Sometimes I’m unsure if I ever knew to begin with.”
“That’s what the progenitor-class said, before it attacked me,” says Rennin staring at Caufmann’s eyes. He can see the bioluminescence, if that’s what it is, glowing behind his irises. It is not a healthy look. Rennin’s artificial eye zooms in unexpectedly throwing his concentration for a moment but what he sees in Caufmann’s eye freezes him dead.
Visible for only an instant before the doctor moves his head, Caufmann’s eye is blue. It must have been their original colour. Shining within the once blue irises are glowing spokes, cutting outwards from the pupil with finer lines crosshatching throughout. They look etched in as if someone has sliced into his eyes with tiny razorblades. What ever happened to them, it must have been painful.
“What else did it tell you?” asks Caufmann.
“That you’re responsible.”
Caufmann briefly smirks, not an expression Rennin has seen often. “If I could design things so intricate, I’d be a world shaper, not a Head of Research at Godyssey.”
“But was it right about the Montrialis crew finding it?”
“It’s very likely. It remains the only ship ever made that was capable of zero mass hyper-transit, rather than the regular Hytran engines we use now.”
Rennin closes his eyes for a moment. “Can you please pretend, just for a moment, that you’re not talking to a rocket scientist?”
Caufmann ignores him, “The ship did hit the projected speed, and did need to make an emergency landing. The rest you know. Android goes mad, crew killed, one survivor.”
“And since you didn’t build it, you can’t cure it?”
“That depends,” says Caufmann locking his strange eyes on Rennin. “Did you get vaccinated?”
“Yes.”
Caufmann lowers his head, staring Rennin down.
“No,” the watchman concedes.
Caufmann’s mouth twists up in a grin but the rest of his face remains uncomfortably inanimate. “You are a stubborn one,” he says, stepping behind Rennin.
“What—” Rennin is cut off, as Caufmann grabs his hair with one hand, his other arm wrapping around his neck. Rennin chokes out in surprise. He tries to struggle but the doctor’s grip is like cold steel, without a hint of give.
A vice would be more forgiving.
The doctor forces Rennin’s head to one side. An instant later he feels a jab in his neck. He cries out, only to discover he has been released.
“You’ll recover in a few days,” says Caufmann, returning to his seat. “This must be unique, that your stubbornness has paid off to your benefit. If you had have already been vaccinated I would have used a different syringe.”
Rennin rubs his neck and coughs a little. “Simple as that? You could have just asked.”
“You would have made a fuss. You hate needles.”
How does he know that? “You penetrated me without even buying me a drink.”
“I can see you’re just flustered after being overpowered,” Caufmann says. From his tone, Rennin isn’t sure if he’s joking. “Now… how did you get sick?”
An image of Carla puking enters his mind. “Do you have any more of that shit?”
Caufmann slumps slightly, “Your girlfriend?”
“No,” he says quickly.
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
Caufmann smiles for a moment before returning to his serious expression. “Has she been vaccinated already?”
“I don’t know.”
“There isn’t much left of the antigen, Rennin.”
“I need it.”
“I barely have enough left for a hundred lives. If I give it to you, you must be sure she’s curable.”
“I think she is, she’s too hard-headed to get vaccinated for flu.”
Caufmann’s face isn’t friendly. “For her sake, you’d best be right. Find out if she’s been given the shot, then I’ll give it to you.”
Rennin thinks for a moment. “What do I do if she can’t be cured?”