“A reproduction sequence?”
“Not what you’re accustomed to when you think reproduction. There was no physical mating involved.” Another strip of fabric pulled free, tearing off small bits of mutated flesh from the exposed ribs. “Have you ever seen pictures of a cell dividing? Maybe in junior high health class?”
“Yes. Freshman year of college, too.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be patronizing. Were you a—”
“Biology major.”
“So you know what I’m talking about, then.”
“Not really. I switched to political science the next semester. Feel free to patronize.”
Carolyn smiled. “Now imagine that cellular division happening on a much larger scale. Millions upon millions of cells. All at once.”
“You mean the things would divide?”
“Basically. One mutated human being would split into another mutated human being. An exact replica.” Another patch of burned fabric ripped free. “The things would grow a twin. Pretty efficient way to make an army, don’t you think?” Carolyn reached inside the exposed chest cavity with her heavy gloves, poking through a shattered portion of the formidable rib cage.
“How far did the Soviets get with it?” Garrett asked.
“Far enough that one of their researchers felt compelled to risk his life to warn us about it.” She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on what she was feeling for in the thing’s chest cavity. “They were able to reproduce a small number of human mutations — even got the reproduction sequence to work — but they couldn’t control it. The things mutated far beyond what they were trying to produce. The process couldn’t be controlled.” She continued searching with her hands, digging through the torn flesh. “They discovered the things would mutate incredibly fast in response to any harmful agents they were exposed to. They were resilient, like bacteria adapting to an overused antibiotic.” Her arms were into the thing almost up to her elbows. “They were afraid they wouldn’t be able to kill the things if they allowed the mutations to continue. So they disposed of them.” She opened her eyes. “There it is…” She started pulling.
“What in God’s name are you digging for?”
“Damn! I can’t get it out.” She yanked hard, causing the thing’s body to rock over on its side, a charred arm bouncing in the air as if it was still alive. “Put on the gloves.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I need help.”
“If you think I’m going to—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. You’re a soldier. Open the covers, put on the damn gloves, and help me pull this thing out.” She grinned at him. “Don’t worry, soldier. You won’t break a nail.”
Without another moment of hesitation, Garrett unlatched the covers, shoved his hands into the heavy gloves, and reached inside the thing’s chest cavity. He was glad he couldn’t actually feel anything through the heavy rubber.
Carolyn guided his hands with hers, folding his fingers around a large, soft object.
“There. Now get a grip on that thing and pull.”
After three or four strong tugs, the object ripped free. The inside of the Plexiglas box was spattered with a thick, dark brown liquid that ran down the side of the smooth surface as the thing’s heart tore free in a gush of foul, dead blood.
Garrett stared at the object in his hands. “What is that?”
“It’s a heart.”
“It’s huge.”
“Not huge. It’s two hearts.” Carolyn spread the mutated mass apart, revealing two separate heart-shaped lumps of muscle. Two sets of torn, hose-like arteries hung from the tops of the brown muscles.
“These things have two hearts?”
“No, this friendly fellow had already started to divide when it was killed. It starts with the internal organs.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“No, more like Josef Stalin. Or Nikita Khrushchev. Leonid Brezhnev, too. They were all involved in it. The program spanned a number of years.” Carolyn pulled her hands from the gloves, leaving Garrett holding the mutated hearts by himself. “Spent a lot of Mother Russia’s rubles, too.”
“Can I put this down now?”
Carolyn couldn’t help but giggle, amused by the look of disgust on Garrett’s face. “Sorry. Yes, you can drop it. If we kept looking through its insides, we’d find more doubled organs.”
“You also said something about cocoons?”
“The initial divisions are fast, hard to control. The Russians never figured out how to slow the initial divisions, and neither did we. As the generations build, the divisions take on a more predictable pattern, occurring at a set interval. In time, when the things started to divide, they’d encase themselves in a chrysalis. Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. It provides protection while they’re vulnerable.”
“The things underground, the casings — they’re cocoons?”
“I’m almost certain. The things went to ground, spun themselves some cocoons, and began the rapid process of cellular division.” She pointed toward the humanoid corpse. “Like our friend over there was doing.”
“If you’re right — and I hope you’re not — we’re going to be in a load of trouble when the things emerge.”
“I’m right, Garrett. It all adds up.” She glanced at the Plexiglas container holding one of the mutated rat bodies. “I can’t explain everything about this, but the basic evidence is just too strong to ignore. It has to be a form of the Gemini agent. It has to be.”
General Rammes cleared his throat. His face was ashen. When he spoke, his voice cracked. “Carolyn, you were right. They’re emerging from the casings.” He paused. “Hundreds of thousands of them. Maybe millions.”
“Dear God.” Garrett felt like all the air in the room had been suddenly sucked out, collapsing his lungs like a well-placed sucker punch.
“Carolyn, you need to look at this.” Lieutenant Ewing handed her a sheet of paper. “It’s blood-borne. The mutation is passed through the blood.”
Garrett looked back at the brown-splattered Plexiglas container and was again very happy he was clad in a protective suit and had used heavy gloves.
The color in Carolyn’s face quickly faded as she read the entire computer analysis. Her mouth hung open in disbelief.
“What is it, Carolyn?” Garrett was almost afraid to ask.
“It’s Gemini, all right, but there’s more to it. Highly aggressive… accelerated mutation…” She continued to read. “Twenty-four-hour replication timeline.” She looked at Josh.
“I ran it three times, Carolyn. The results were the same each time.”
“Does this mean these things are going to double in number every twenty-four hours?” Garrett asked.
“Yes.” She paused. “By tomorrow night—”
General Rammes finished her statement. “By tomorrow night, there’ll be twice as many.”